


The Legend of Rose Hexfury - The Distant Horizon

by infinitarisus



Series: The Legend of Rose Hexfury [5]
Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Chaptered, Character Death, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Love, Love Confessions, Magic, Major Character Injury, Major Illness, Marriage, Marriage Proposal, Medicine, Mythology References, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, POV Original Character, Post-Canon, Pregnancy, Prophecy, Prophetic Dreams, Series, Stockholm Syndrome, Voodoo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-11
Updated: 2018-04-11
Packaged: 2019-04-21 17:05:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 25
Words: 60,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14289396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/infinitarisus/pseuds/infinitarisus
Summary: Part 5 of the story of Rose Hexfury, the half-sister of Jack Sparrow, pupil of Tia Dalma, and daughter of Captain Teague. This is her untold story; all the times you never saw her, all the interactions she had with the characters you remember, and the impact you never knew she made, all told by a still unknown character who wishes to document her importance.Rose and Elizabeth have together picked up the pieces after the War on Piracy, working to establish a pirate safe haven on Shipwreck Island. Though a new birth brings great joy, Rose finds herself restless at being land bound. When a powerful enemy resurfaces with an even greater threat at their side, Rose's life turns upside down, and she finds herself with more powers than she ever thought possible, and readies herself for the deliverance of a long-awaited prophecy.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! You've reached the final chapter of Rose's story, though there is a Part 6 spinoff story...and if I say more, I'll give it away, so I'll leave it at that. 
> 
> This section is also a favorite of mine. It doesn't cover any particular film, though the events of "On Stranger Tides" occur simultaneously elsewhere, and you might see a few familiar faces in that movie appear here as well! 
> 
> Enjoy! Pirate's life!

This hasn’t been an easy job, I’ll have you know.

Write the history of a woman who has gone unnoted. Study the accounts of her past in relation to the histories of Captain Jack Sparrow, Captain Edward Teague, Calypso, King Elizabeth Turner and Captain Will Turner. It’s no easy task. Thankfully, I have a copious amount of resources to help me tell the tale with the greatest amount of accuracy.

Rose Hexfury has been documented. That’s all that matters now.

We now approach the end of Rose’s story, and now that I’m in these final chapters, I wish to recant how I have organized her story up to this point. I have decided to break apart Rose’s history in three main portions based on Rose herself. Part the first was when she was powerless, at the mercy of others, and was just learning to discover who she was. Part the second was about how she lost everything and through her failures, began to discover the scope of her power. We begin now on part the third and final portion of her story, which is something else entirely. I simply like to call this portion, “Powerful.”  You will now discover what became of Rose Hexfury, the captive gypsy girl who was prophesied to one day hold more power than any man could dream of possessing.

Lastly, have you forgotten about me? Your narrator, the one recanting the legend of Rose Hexfury? I told you at the beginning of my ledger that I was to come into play at the end of this saga, and I have not forgotten that promise.

 

I will return.

 

\- A.


	2. The Next Direction

Port Royal, Jamaica.

Rose was making her third approach to this town in two years, and despite her side now having the advantage over its inhabitants, she knew the fear and bad memories she associated with it would never quite leave her.

The first time was with Ben. They came in a small boat and hid in the kitchen of the temporarily abandoned Swann household while Jack, Elizabeth, Will and Barbossa were abroad fighting over the Isla de Muerta. That was the place that marked the beginning of the end for Rose and Ben’s relationship. Although the curse was broken while they were there and they were soon able to reunite with Jack and the _Pearl,_ the trauma Ben experienced from his immortal days turned him into a creature of volatility, instability, and unhappiness. Rose would willingly give her heart to him, but his frequent rebuffing of her love began the deep hurt that followed him through his final death on the Isla de Pelegostos.

The second time was when she was utterly alone. The remnants of the _Pearl_ ’s crew had been forced to leave her behind in Singapore, and she was captured and brought back to Port Royal to be hanged with thousands of other pirates seized by the East India Trading Company. She was rescued by Naval officer James Norrington, who recognized her from his previous pursuits to capture her brother. Knowing her association with Jack and the _Pearl,_ he devised to get information about the pirates’ meeting place; Shipwreck Cove, the place Rose now lived. He ultimately succeeded, as the kindness he showed Rose warped her mind and made her act impulsively upon her feelings. After a time and some significant abuse by officers Norrington had no control over, she gave up that vital information he so desperately needed to repair his own shaky reputation with the Company. He then handed her over to the enemy to be hanged. Despite freeing her the next morning, the memory still felt like a dagger twisting in her chest.

Now Rose was coming here a third time, sailing on a ship called the _Bountiful,_ a former British expedition vessel of similar make to the _Black Pearl,_ but had been taken by a mutinous crew and pawned off at Shipwreck Cove after the war on piracy had ceased. She was sailingbeneath the command of someone who had gone from a sworn enemy to her foremost friend and ally, Captain Elizabeth Turner. This time, Rose wasn't hiding from anyone. She wasn't anyone's captive. That didn't stop her from feeling apprehensive.

Elizabeth sensed this apprehension as they approached the harbor. "Are you alright?" she asked, stirring Rose from her thoughts.

"I'm fine," Rose said with a hasty smile. "Just...thinking."

Elizabeth nodded. "This should be fairly straightforward, just like we did at the bayou."

"If anything, this will be easier," said Rose. "It took hours to sort out what was useful in Tia Dalma's home and what was, well... _not._ " She then gave her a sidelong glance. "There's no surprise boa snakes lurking in your house, are there?"

Elizabeth laughed. "No, not that I'm aware of. Unless my father had a strange, secret hobby." She then motioned for Rose to follow her to the front of the quarter deck.

"Listen up, men!" she cried to her crew. All commotion on deck ceased as they looked up to their captain. These men were a ragtag group of misfits who had elected to stay behind on Shipwreck Island after the war had ceased. Elizabeth took command of the _Bountiful_ and commissioned a crew of about 18 men to help her and Rose sail it to retrieve their items from their respective childhood homes. The women's plans were build their homes in the Shipwreck Cove fortress and manage the affairs of the island. It was to be a safe haven, restocking facility, and hospital for Pirates. Rose liked to think of it as Tortuga, but more utilitarian. Tortuga was a safe place where Rose has seen pirates stay sometimes without end. Shipwreck was to be a place that pirates passed through en route to far off adventures. But first, before construction of this dream could take place, Rose and Elizabeth wanted the belongings from their past lives returned to them.

Now that she had their full attention, Elizabeth began her speech to her crew. "This mission is just like the last, with one large exception; This island is teeming with people. Jefferson, compile a crew of six. You keep the ship in motion, firing the starboard cannons to distract the men at Fort Charles."

"Aye, Cap'n!" her first mate, Jefferson, cried.

Elizabeth continued. "Lenoir, Micheaux, Addario, and Sterne, you will come with me and Hexfury up to the Governor's mansion, my old home. You will help us haul items back down to the docks. I want to be clear; Anything retrieved in the house belongs to me, understood?"

"Aye, aye!" the men cried out in unison.

"The rest of you will go ashore as well. As for you, loot whatever you wish, and bring it back for evaluation and equal distribution, as promised when you took this voyage. Half of you, follow the trail to the town square. There you will find the bank and a blacksmith's shop," Rose heard Elizabeth's voice crack at the mention of Will's old occupation. She quickly pulled herself together, however, and proceeded with, "The other half of you, head to the fort. There's much valuable ammunition up there. Be warned—there are still armed guards there. This brings me to my last command.

"None of you, and I mean _none_ of you, are to harm anyone ashore. Unless you are threatened or provoked, particularly by the men at the fort, you are to come and go peacefully. If I hear any reports of violence, you will not receive a single portion of the loot. This was my home, and I respect the people too much to resort to violence. Have I made myself clear?"

"Aye aye, Captain!" Rose and the men cried.

"Prepare the boats! Jefferson, take your crew to the guns! Step-to!" she cried out.

Rose looked at her friend amidst the sudden energy on deck. "In your wildest dreams," she said, "Would you ever imagine that you would one day be leading an attack against your hometown?”

“Honestly?” she replied. “I’m not all too positive that the past year _hasn’t_ been a dream.”

They both then piled into a longboat together and descended into the sea. Once they were out of range, Elizabeth called back up to the _Bountiful,_ “FIRE ON!” and the vessel began to fire its cannons at the fort. It took only a few short minutes for the fort to return fire, but Rose and Elizabeth shared a confused glance when they noticed that only four guns of the fort’s prolific armory were actually operating. This was highly unusual.

Three longboats in sum rowed towards the docks, and among the cannon fire and the yelling and the splashing of the waves, Rose was pulled out of the moment once more.

 _I want you to live with even an ounce of the pain I feel. Maybe then you'd understand what you’ve caused,_ Ben’s voice echoed.

James’s came next, like a fly buzzing in her ear. _Inform Lord Beckett that we have the name of the pirate fortress, and that our prisoner shall be executed with the rest tomorrow afternoon._

 _Still slave to men, cherie?_ Rose jerked her head around when she heard her mother’s voice beside her. Sure as the sun, her mother sat in the boat alongside her, her violet eyes piercing through her. _I told you that they were all the same, yet you do not listen._

Rose averted her eyes, refusing to respond to the vision, as she was uncertain in that moment of what was real and what was a figment of her imagination.

 _Ah, you see reason in my words!_ Anna’s voice whispered. _The memories haunt you. Ben less, the Admiral more. Reclaim it then._

Rose looked back up to her mother’s form, alarmed at this phrase. Anna repeated, _Reclaim the memory. Make it better. You know what you must do…_

Rose _did_ know what she must do. She had wanted to do it from the moment James betrayed her. Now was her chance. In a blink of her eyelids, Anna vanished and was replaced by a concerned looking Elizabeth, who had just asked for the third time in a row, “What’s wrong?”

Rose blinked away her hallucination. “Nothing. I’m fine,” she lied.

Elizabeth looked unconvinced, but let it go in the interest of the mission, for they had arrived at the docks. Upon anchoring and tying off, the pirates rushed to the shore. A small group of conversing merchants immediately cried, “PIRATES!” in terror and fled, but beyond that, the typical hustle and bustle that was Port Royal seemed to be no more. This struck all of them odd, yet they knew they had no time to question it.

“Those to the Governor’s mansion, follow me,” Elizabeth commanded. “You lot head up that trail to the square, the rest of you proceed up the hill to Fort Charles. Keep aware, and be back to the docks before Jefferson fires the last cannonball.”

“Aye, Cap’n!” they cried out obediently, then split up. Rose, however, remained stationary.

“Rose?” Elizabeth asked. “You’re coming, aren’t you?”

She hesitated before replying, “Actually, I will go with the group headed to the fort. I have business to conduct there.”

Elizabeth raised her eyebrows. “Oh? What business?”

“Something important to me is up there,” she speedily replied. “I can’t leave without learning of its fate.”

“Whatever you had I’m sure is gone by now,” Elizabeth protested. “I could really use you up at the mansion.”

“Please, I must check.”

Finally, Elizabeth conceded, and Rose raced up the hill to catch up with the others. The five pirates raced right to the fort’s gates and stormed them, but were wholly unprepared for the ambush the remaining Company officers had planned. Eight men leapt out from behind a stone staircase and began to attack with their bayonet rifles. While four of them were quickly disarmed, Rose was at the rear of the group and was completely vulnerable from behind. With all of her attention in front of her, she didn’t anticipate being kicked to the ground by a uniformed officer. As she turned in a roll on the ground, she froze stiff as soon as she felt the bayonet pierce her in the right side of her abdomen. She stayed there for a moment, until she felt the weapon get pulled out of her body. Then, before she quite knew what was happening, that same officer’s body landed atop hers, having been dispatched by one of her crew. She threw him off of her and sat up, the pirate who had helped her offering her a hand to stand up.

It was more pain that Rose had ever before experienced, but she knew there was no time to lose; she had a job to do, and even if it meant her death, she was going to die trying. She put her hand over the wound and pulled it back to see the profuse amount blood gushing out of it. The other pirates had pressed onward, and she had to do the same.

While occupied with another group of Company officers, she charged past the rest of her men, still clutching her ribs. She had come this far; she was _not_ about to give up now. She followed the route she had traced in her mind a thousand times. _Up the stairs, around the corridor. Left turn. Skirt the courtyard. Left turn again._

She found it. The door that had haunted her memories for so long now. Her heart pounded in her chest as she thought about finally taking the revenge she sought so much. She took a deep breath, and kicked in the door.

A wigged official she did not recognize was on the inside, pistol pointed right at her. “Don’t come any closer,” he shouted, voice elevated in panic, “Or I’ll shoot!”

Rose tightened her jaw, quickly drawing her own pistol. “Who are you?” she spat.

“I’m not looking for trouble,” the official said, hand still steady on the trigger. “My name is Theodore Groves. I survived the attack on the _Endeavour._ I merely seek passage home.”

Rose took a quick glance around the room. Had she somehow gotten it wrong? _Was_ this Norrington’s office? She couldn't have been mistaken.   
“We knew you’d be coming,” Groves said with a gulp. “We knew that after the war, the pirates would retaliate. The British Crown removed the settlement here and ordered us to depart. It’s yours, I swear it. Just let us go.”

Rose narrowed her eyes. “Who is in charge here? Let me speak to him!”

“I have the highest authority here,” he reported. “I am the Lieutenant, and with Beckett gone—”

“Y _ou’re_ the highest in command?” Rose said in alarm.

Groves nodded. “Yes,” he replied.

“Um,” Rose began, flustered. “I…I came here to speak with one of your officers. James Norrington? Where is he?”

Groves lowered his pistol slightly. His eyes glinted in faint recognition. “You’re the gypsy girl he kept, aren’t you?”

Rose clicked the barrel of her gun. “I wasn’t _kept,_ ” she hissed through gritted teeth.

Groves’s breathing increase with Rose’s increasing rage. “We don’t know where he is,” he said calmly. “We assume he didn’t survive the war.”

Rose felt as though she had been delivered a blow to the chest. Nearly half a year ago, she stood in this place, begging for James to come with her to Shipwreck Cove. The action would have freed him, and he might still be alive today, had he not made the one mistake that ultimately cost him his life.

Groves broke the silence. “He vanished aboard the _Flying Dutchman._ Any man who was stationed beneath him has died, so we can only presume he did as well.”

 _Once again a slave to man_ , Rose heard Anna’s voice say again in her mind. She seethed at the memory of his betrayal. Rose looked up at Groves. “You _presume?”_ Groves only nodded, but she didn’t believe him for a second. “With a command as airtight and controlled as yours, you cannot confirm an Admiral’s _death_?” she cried, walking closer towards him.

“Stay back,” Groves ordered, adjusting his position so that his gun stayed aimed at her. “I swear it, I’ll shoot!”

“You’re protecting him, aren’t you?” she spat. “WHERE IS HE?”

“I WILL PRESS THIS TRIGGER!”

“WHERE IS HE?” Rose screamed.

“ROSE!” Elizabeth yelled out, standing in the doorway. Rose broke her concentration and looked towards her friend, which normally would have provided the perfect opportunity for Groves to shoot her were he not just as surprised to see her there. “Miss Swann?” he asked, dumbfounded.

“Turner,” Elizabeth corrected, marching right to Rose’s side. “We’ve got what we’ve come for. Let’s go,” she said firmly.

Rose just stood there, breathing heavily, furious at herself for letting her emotions get the better of her. Now Elizabeth would undoubtedly have questions.

“ _You_ led the assault on us?” Groves asked, incredulously.

Elizabeth nodded. “Aye. We’ve taken what we needed, and will harm you no further. Come, Rose,” she ordered, leading her outside. Before she exited, she turned back to him and said, “Safe travels back to England, Groves.”

Groves was too in shock to do anything further.

Elizabeth and Rose wordlessly made their way back to the _Bountiful_ , walking past their pirate compatriots as they loaded the ship with the goods they were able to loot from the mansion, the fort, and the town. On their way back, Elizabeth asked Rose, “Good lord, what happened to your side?”

In the excitement of the moment, Rose had all but forgotten about her injury. The blood was still fresh on her white shirt, but she pulled it up to examine the stab wound, only to find dried blood in its place. Had she imagined it? Was it only a slight flesh wound? No, the hole in her shirt was proof enough… Rose had little time to think on it, however, for the crew had to hastily hoist up the valuables on deck and secure the longboats, fleeing rapidly back towards Shipwreck Cove.

Once aboard, Elizabeth led Rose by the arm and led her straight to the Captain’s quarters as they began to make sail. There was much they needed to discuss.


	3. Moving On

In the Captain’s quarters, Rose took a seat in an armchair, defeated. Her shoulders slumped forward, and she hung her head low.

Elizabeth leaned up against a nearby wall, looking down at her friend. “You want to tell me what that was all about?” she asked. Her voice was gentle, but pressing for further details.

There was no escaping this. Rose was discovered pointed a loaded pistol at one of Elizabeth’s former colleague. There could be no further suppression in what she had done. Up until then, she had kept details about her capture on Fort Charles very vague to everyone except her father. She began slowly, her eyes still fixated on the floorboards in front of her. “Do you remember where we met?”

Elizabeth nodded. “Of course. We nearly ran you down with our carriage, James and I. Haven’t we already made this connection?”

Rose took a deep breath, already on edge at even just the mentioning of his first name. “After that, Norrington grew quite accustomed to seeing me as he chased Jack and I across the Caribbean.” She looked up. “He’s the officer who freed me from Fort Charles after I was captured at Singapore.”

Elizabeth’s eyes went wide. “James freed you?”

“Well, that’s all a matter of perspective, really,” Rose snorted. “He recognized me in the execution line and pulled me out to interrogate me. By day I would stay in a cell, but by night I could sleep in his office.” Rose shook herself from the memory. “The point is, he knew the only way to get to me was to get me to trust him. And I ultimately did.” The hairs of her arms stood on edge as she finally voiced her confession of guilt aloud. “Elizabeth, that’s how the Company knew of Shipwreck Cove. I told Norrington.” Rose was suddenly filled with shame again, and she began to stammer. “I…I wasn’t right in the head. I had just lost Ben…and Jack, and all of you, and…it wasn’t real, any of it-“

“What wasn’t real?”

“My feelings!” she said in exasperation. Then, more reservedly, she muttered, “He made me feel…things.”

Elizabeth was dumbfounded. “Did you fancy him?”

“…I kissed him.”

When no verbal response came, Rose looked up at Elizabeth to gauge her reaction to the fact that her most trusted friend had fallen for her former fiancee, but was confused to find Elizabeth trying to suppress a grin.

“Do you mock me?” asked Rose incredulously.

“No! Not a bit, I just…” stuttered Elizabeth, now fully unable to hide her amusement. “I can’t believe two parts of my life collided like that without my knowing. Go on, how did he respond?”

“He went along with it. He said he’d figure out a way in which we could escape, and I… _foolishly_ told him that the pirates were meeting at Shipwreck Cove. He then called in the guards, and they took me back to my cell to be hanged within a fortnight.”

Elizabeth shook her head. “But…that doesn’t make any sense. You said he freed you!”

“And free me he did the morning after. It was the day he was to commandeer the _Dutchman_ , and he snuck me a key in some food he brought for me.” She looked up at her friend. “I suppose guilt won out. That’s why today, I broke off from the rest of you and went to the Fort. Just in case he survived the Maelstrom. But according to your friend, it would appear that he did not.”

Elizabeth walked to Rose, taking a seat on one of the arms of the chair in which she sat. “No,” she said quietly. “All that any officer who survived the war knows is that James never returned. They presume his death.” She took a pause. “I can confirm it.”

Rose looked up at her in alarm.

“I was there,” Elizabeth said sadly. “He died saving me and the crew of the _Empress._ Bootstrap had gone a bit round the bend by that point, and he saw what James was doing and killed him for it. One of the first things I asked Will once he became the captain of the _Dutchman_ was to look for James aboard just in case he joined Jones’s crew after he died but…he didn’t.”

Rose said nothing, and instead just silently took all of this information in.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” Elizabeth finally said. “You could have asked me yourself about what happened to James.”

Rose couldn’t bring herself to look at Elizabeth any longer, for she was once again swimming in a large ocean of conflicting emotions that she was failing to process with grace. “It was already a humiliation that I endangered all of our lives because of my foolishness,” she said. “I didn’t want anyone to know anything more about it.”

With that, she stood to leave, for she suddenly felt that she needed some time alone.

“Rose?” Elizabeth called after her. “If James had survived, and he was there at the Fort, what would you have done? What was to be accomplished by seeing him again?”

Rose cast a look over her shoulder. Demurely, she replied, “I was going to kill him. He had betrayed all of you by taking the heart for his own gains, had betrayed me, wanted Jack dead…he needed to be stopped, and I needed to be the one to finish it.”

Gently, Elizabeth protested, “But he set you free. Trust me, I knew James’s nature. He would not have done that if he didn’t feel remorse.” She then stood, placing a hand on Rose’s shoulder. “The night he died, I too offered to bring him with me to Shipwreck Cove. He chose instead to ensure that I got there, and he perished for it. He was a hero, Rose. Believe me.”

Rose continued to fight her emotions. She managed a forced smile and said simply, “If you say so.”

Before she could exit the room, Elizabeth called out once more for her. “And Rose,” she said. “You’re never a fool for feeling love.”

Rose shook her head. “It wasn’t love,” she replied. “And I _was_ a fool.” She walked out the door and back onto the deck to busy herself with anything, any job or activity…just anything. If nothing could be done to help her kill the demons that haunted her past, then it was time to repress them again, just like she had always done.

A thought occurred to her, however, which caused her to stop. She looked back to the place where she had been stabbed by the bayonet, touching the shirt now crimson with her dried blood. She poked her finger through the hole in the shirt and felt around the place where the wound _should_ have still been. But there truly _was_ nothing except her skin as it always had been. She can’t have imagined it all…could she?

* * *

“So what I’m thinking,” Elizabeth said with a grunt as she and Rose slid a crate into the center of the room. “Is that this will be your storeroom.”

Rose looked around the space. They were back at the Shipwreck Cove fortress, a large, towering structure made of various pieces of dozens of vessels claimed by the treacherous reef that surrounded Shipwreck. Rose had been here for a few months now, first with her father as the Pirate Lords gathered for the fourth and final Brethren Court. Elizabeth was declared the Pirate King there, and though her purpose in this role had run its course as soon as the war had been won, the two women had elected to stay to turn Shipwreck Island into the pirate safe haven of their dreams. The fortress consisted of three levels, and they currently stood at the ground level, which was the biggest of the three. “This room?” Rose asked. “But it’s immense!”

“Where’s that map?” Elizabeth asked, and Rose instantly went to a pile where she had placed one of her father’s maps of the island. Rose kneeled on the ground beside the crate with Elizabeth, and they together spread the map out over it.

“Here we are,” Elizabeth said, pointing to the circular cove on the map, “And just over this hill is the town, correct? And what are the merits of the town?”

“Tavern and brothel, market, blacksmith shop, tailor, and stables.”

“Precisely. Small, but functional, and all things that a pirate could benefit from. What resources have we?”

“Breadfruit,” Rose listed. “A freshwater spring just west of here. Plenty of timber for repairs. Fish.”

“But what’s missing is all the more important” noted Elizabeth. “The Cove is an ideal place to park vessels so that they are out of sight of enemy ships. And upstairs at the old Brethren meeting grounds is the Pirate Code and a meeting place. I can conduct business there with passing captains in terms of how long they can stay, the extent of their repairs and restocking, and the like. Any concerns with the Code can be managed by either myself or your father, if he’s in.

“This floor will be yours. All the goods that we took from Calypso’s shack are invaluable. Hospital, medicinal goods, trinkets and valuables. We’ll stock them here! It’s a trading outpost of sorts. And I think you are _just_ the person to manage it.”

Rose couldn’t help but grin at this plan. After all her time spent as a healer under Calypso’s care during her childhood, she knew she was more than capable of this task. She also longed to fill up the crooked, bent, and cave-like walls of the fortress with all sorts of bric-a-brac. Just imagining what the future of this island would be like was a bright and much-needed ray of sunshine for Rose.

“But a trading outpost suggests that we will have a constant influx of new goods,” Rose pondered. “How will we ensure of this?”

Elizabeth’s eyes shined with excitement. “I gave the _Bountiful_ to Jefferson. It made sense; I won’t be able to sail her, as I must stay here for Will’s heart. So I gave him the vessel on the conditions that he make frequent returns, giving us half the loot he takes. That will at least get us started, and then other vessels can trade with us later on once we build repute.”

This was an airtight plan. Elizabeth truly _had_ thought of everything. But Rose had one final question. “And what of the second floor of the fortress?” she asked. “What will we do with that?”

“I looked at that,” replied Elizabeth. “There’s four distinct areas which could be considered ‘rooms,’ would you agree?”

“Aye.”

“Two for storage? Two for you and me?” she suggested.

Rose grinned. “That sounds absolutely ideal.”

Elizabeth was elated. “It will be a challenge, and quite a good deal of work, but I think we can do it together. With just a bit of…” Her voice trailed off, and suddenly her face lost its color. Her eyes then grew wide and distant and her jaw tightened.

“What is it?” Rose asked, laying a hand on her arm. “Elizabeth?”

She then jumped to her feet and raced out the door to the sea, and began to wretch into it. Rose followed closely behind, waiting until she had finished, and then took her by the arm and led her back inside.

“I’m sorry,” Elizabeth apologized, wiping her mouth with her sleeve. “Something just came over me.”

“Don’t apologize,” Rose said. “Do you think it’s something you ate?”

Elizabeth grimaced, looking guiltily up at her friend. “If I’m being perfectly honest, no. It’s been awhile of this.”

Rose was alarmed by this, and cleared the map off the crate and sat her down on it. “How long?” she asked as she began a routine and basic examination on her to evaluate her health. 

“Just a week or so,” she replied. “It’s just been nausea and fatigue mostly. I feel incredibly tired most of the day.”

Rose checked her eyes, throat, and was beginning to feel along her jawline. To fill the space, Elizabeth said, “I don’t usually get ill. It’s uncommon for me. Even on the way to Singapore, it was a wonder that I didn’t fall ill when Will did.” She smiled as she began to reminisce, “I remember when we were young, I came down with an illness. I had spent every day for months with Will, playing and talking. That was in the early days, right after we arrived in Port Royal. Well, when I fell ill, I vanished without notice, so naturally Will was concerned. He came to my home, marched bravely up to our door and demanded to see my father. But once he had, he realized that he knew me only as ‘Elizabeth.’ He didn’t know if I had a title, so he mistakenly asked to see ‘the princess.’

“Well, you can imagine that my father was rather confused. He thought Will had gone mad and sent him back to Mr. Brown’s shop. Thankfully, after a week of bedrest, I was back to it, and we were able to clear up the confusion.” She laughed at the memory, then grew somber. “That was before my governess decided that it was no longer appropriate for a lady to keep company with an apprentice. But those days with him were…blessed.”

Elizabeth was drawn out from her story when she noticed that Rose’s face held a worried expression.

“What?” Elizabeth asked.

Rose looked up at her, mouth fumbling for the right words to ask a delicate question. “When…well, what were the—“ She cleared her throat and began again. “After the war, when you went ashore with Will…what was the…nature of your time here?”

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. “We’re husband and wife, Rose. What do you think?”

Rose put her hands up defensively. “Just thought I’d ask!” She then struggled to suppress a grin as she said. “I…just wanted to make sure that my diagnosis is correct.”

Elizabeth’s eyes instantly filled with tears as soon as she realized what she meant. She then barreled into Rose, clinging to her in an embrace.

“Oh my god,” she said through a laugh. “Oh Rose, you’ll help me, won’t you.”

Rose burst into laughter. “No, you’re on your own, Elizabeth. Best of luck delivering a child entirely on your own.”

Elizabeth pulled herself out of the hug. “ _My_ child,” she exclaimed. “Will and I…are having a child!”


	4. The Girl and the Boy

The impending birth of the Turner baby should have been a time of relaxation, comfort, and preparation. It was anything but. In the months that followed, Rose and Elizabeth both barely slept a wink they were working so hard. Jefferson delivered on his promise, and even added several more pirate ships to the mission of looting valuables for the trading post in exchange for money. Rose’s storeroom soon became so full with these goods that they _had_ to utilize both rooms the women had set aside on the second floor, in addition to most of Rose’s room. She resorted to Calypso’s method of hanging valuables and various jars full of items from the rafters, just so that there would be room for everything. She had tables and shelves and bureaus full of books, jewelry, baubles, trinkets, heirlooms, furniture, and textiles. On the side closest to the stairway which led to her room, she kept her infirmary and hospital. Much like how Calypso had kept it, Rose had organized books and vials and bottles of herbs, poultices, and potions at the ready, as well as had a particularly handy local in Shipwreck build her a fireplace that vented out the side of the fortress to brew more remedies. There she had laid out three cots and kept her desk, as well as a hammock if she ever needed to spend the night overseeing patients’ ailments.

Elizabeth, meanwhile, was busy negotiating resource allotment and docking schedules at the Cove. She helped Rose stock her storeroom and insisted upon being at every town function, though Rose preferred it that Elizabeth keep herself and the baby rested. Rose’s checkups on their wellbeing were frequent, sometimes much to Elizabeth’s annoyance. But each time there was nothing to fear; Mother and child were healthy and strong.

Repute grew for the island of Shipwreck. The economy of the town grew significantly as more and more heard about the island’s many merits, and soon the town grew several businesses stronger. The Cove was frequented, and Rose’s storeroom was consistently teeming with pirates. Attempted theft was frequent, but Rose always kept her pistol on her to dissuade such activity.

It was in one of these early days that Rose woke and came down into her shop to set up for the day when she turned a corner and nearly leapt out of her skin as she came across a familiar face she thought she’d never see.

“Barbossa!” she cried out. She placed a hand on her chest. “You gave me a fright!”

Barbossa only glared at her with bloodshot eyes and moved away from her, examining the contents of her shelves. His appearance was jarring—his face wore a pallor of grief, his shoulders hunched, and he had a profound limp. Rose’s eyes traced his form down until she saw the reason for this limp—his lower leg was gone, replaced by a hunk of what appeared to be driftwood.

Rose gasped. “My god, Barbossa,” she cried, “What on earth happened?”

He reacted as though she had said nothing, and just kept looking through her shelves. Rose came closer to examine the leg. Any number of factors could have explained its absence; disease, infection, taken by force… He wasn’t letting her get close enough to properly examine it and check him for further infection, however, so she had to stand back and let him be.

Perhaps most disturbing was that Jack the monkey was not with him. Something had definitely gone awry in Barbossa’s life since he had left with Jack. She innately feared the worst for her brother, and she took a moment to devise a sensitive way of approaching that topic. “Do you still sail with Jack?”

He stopped, glared at her, then turned away.

 _That’s a no,_ she thought. At least that meant that Jack might not be in as much trouble as Barbossa appeared to be in…So he must have devised a way to leave Barbossa behind, separated from the _Black Pearl._

She approached him cautiously from another part of the room, like prey approaching a sleeping predator. “Barbossa?” she asked, voice low. “Is…is there anything I can help you with? What do you search for?”

He still said nothing, eyes roaming her wares. She tried to think of any medicine he might be searching for, any object of value she had lifted from Tia Dalma’s home, but she was coming up empty. How did Barbossa find out about her establishment?

“Elizabeth and I manage the Cove now,” she idly said in attempts to make small talk. “We wanted this place to be a safe haven for pirates. We manage the resources and affairs of the town.” Then, she gently tried to pry more details from him by saying, “Clearly _something_ must have worked, for you found us.”

This still did nothing. Barbossa only shifted and limped back towards the front of her shop. Suddenly, he stopped, staring at a table where Rose did the majority of her business. She walked around and looked where he was looking. He then gingerly picked the object up; a small, leather-bound notebook. He flipped through its blank pages.

He looked back at her. “Yours?” was all he asked.

She shook her head. “All of these goods are looted from elsewhere. They’re all up for barter or purchase.”

Barbossa looked back to it, nodding slowly. “She’ll be bright. …the brightest,” he muttered.

She stepped closer toward him. “Who?”

He jerked his head around to her and shot a fiery glare at her, unwilling to explain a thing. She put her hands up defensively. “Very well.” Then, after a moment, she hesitantly added, “If it’s a notebook you seek for this mystery girl, I have one that is worth considerably more.” She quickly swept around towards her desk, opening a drawer where she kept the items that she thought might hold particular value or hidden secrets. She knew _exactly_ what she wanted, and found it immediately, bringing it back to Barbossa.

“It’s a different notebook, though this one is partially used,” she said, flipping through the worn pages. She then showed him the cover, which was black with gold bordering on the cover with a asymmetrical ruby inlaid the center. Below the ruby was an illustration of what appeared to be a pronged constellation. Opening the cover, she showed him the first page, which had written across it the name of its original owner. “Galileo Galilei,” she said. “All my evidence suggests heavily that its authentic.”

Barbossa narrowed his eyes. “From where does it come?”

“My source plundered an Italian vessel. This was among the winnings. It was almost thrown overboard, considered worthless, but he saved it for the ruby alone. I rather think, however, that there’s something _else_ hidden within,” She extended it out to him. “I haven’t the time to investigate, but given our shared past with elements of the supernatural, it might prove useful to you. Or even your friend.”

He took it from her and examined it closely, then after a moment asked, “What do ye want for this?”

Rose doubted that he had anything of value on him, let alone money. She shook her head. “It’s yours.”

He gave her a quizzical look, and she explained, “Consider it long overdue payment for bringing me my brother back… given that he’s still-“

“He’s fine,” he huffed while rolling his eyes. “He made it out.”

 _Made it out of where?_ Rose thought. But she could tell that Barbossa was unwilling to give her answers. Jack was safe, and that was all that mattered.

Barbossa gave her an acknowledging nod, pocketed the book, then asked simply, “Ye have a map?”

“Aye,” she said, walking to where she kept the rolls of various maps she had collected. She paused, then turned back. “Local or international?”

He rolled his eyes again. “Why would I possibly need a local map?” he spat.

“Alright, alright,” huffed Rose, retrieving a map of the world. She returned, spreading the map out on the table. She watched as Barbossa traced his finger from Shipwreck Cove to an island called St. Martin, then all of a sudden stop and stay stationary. Rose looked up at him to see what had caused him to pause, only then realizing that he had done so because he was glaring at her rubbernecking. She gave a guilty glance and moved a few paces off, but craned her neck just in time to see him trace a route from St. Martin to England. After that he rolled up the map, handed it back to her, then began to arduously limp his way out of her shop. It pained Rose to not be able to help him further, but there was nothing she could do. Unless…

“Barbossa, wait!” she cried, rushing to a far corner of the shop. She retrieved a simple crutch and held it out to him. “I know it isn’t much,” she said, “But it will help.”

He gratefully took the crutch and put it under his arm. “Thank ye,” he gruffly replied.

“Take care,” she said, watching him as he struggled along his way. Rose and Elizabeth had anticipated their plans to bring about pirates from all walks of life, but she never expected in all her days this strange encounter from someone from her past. That was the last time she ever saw him.

Only a month later, Rose performed the most terrifying task she ever had to do; safely deliver the baby of her treasured friends. Elizabeth had stumbled into Rose’s infirmary early that morning, reporting, “I think the baby is coming!” Rose instantly closed down her shop for the day and helped Elizabeth down onto a cot. Rose had helped several bayou-dwellers in labor, and comparatively, Elizabeth’ was rather quick, but certainly no less painful. In some of the worst moments, Elizabeth had pain-induced tears streaming down her face as she cried out Will’s name, repeating over and over again, “I need you here!” Rose felt for her friend, but there was nothing that could be done about that. A few hours later, Elizabeth gave birth to a boy. Exhausted yet relieved, the two women celebrated his first few moments on earth alone and together. Rose slept in the hammock that night alongside mother and child, and in the morning when she woke, she saw Elizabeth holding her swaddled, sleeping child with a bittersweet smile on her face.

“Have you decided on a name yet?” Rose asked, her voice cutting through the silence.

Elizabeth looked up at her. “William, naturally.” Then, her eyes grew distant. “This will kill him,” she said, obviously alluding to Will, her husband who wouldn’t know that he had a son until he returned to Shipwreck Cove for his one day on land in another nine years. “It’s just history repeating itself. Will lost his father to the _Dutchman,_ grew up without him being present. Now our son will grow up, having lost his father to the _Dutchman_ and growing up without him being present… He’ll be crushed by this.”

Rose threw her legs over the hammock, considering this for a moment. “The War on Piracy. Remember when Jack called the parlay, and you, him, and Barbossa met on land to negotiate with Will, Beckett and Jones?”

“Aye,” Elizabeth said. “I’m not sure I understand how that connects…”

“How did Jones step foot on land? Ten years wasn’t up for him.”

Elizabeth suddenly found the reason in her words. “A bucket!” she cried. “Jones stood in a bucket of water!”

Rose grinned. “What if there’s a way?” she asked. “What if there’s a way we can bring Will here now?”

* * *

Rose tied off the sail of the dinghy she borrowed from the owner of the Shipwreck Tavern. The boat quivered with the vibrations caused by the beating of Will’s undead heart through the metal chest, which was stained with fresh dirt from where the women had dug it up from the place in which they had hid it for safekeeping. She turned and nodded to Elizabeth, who held her sleeping newborn in her arms up on the dock. Wordlessly and with a slight air of excitement, Elizabeth lifted the key to the chest, which she always kept hanging around her neck, and handed it to Rose.

All it took was a north facing wind to start her out against the incoming tide out to the open sea. Once she had made it out far enough, Rose took the key out and placed it inside the heart-shaped lock. The chest clicked open, and for the first time ever, Rose saw the legendary heart which captained the _Dutchman._ She took a deep breath, reached inside the chest, and squeezed the heart firmly. The idea was that Will would feel the disturbance with his heart and instantly come back to Shipwreck Island to see what was the matter.

Sure enough, only a few moments later did the _Flying Dutchman_ burst out of the ocean, sending the dinghy rocking violently with the disturbed waves.

Voices on deck cried out to her from above: “Ahoy!” “Who goes there?”

“PARLAY!” Rose shouted up to them.

She started when Will materialized out of the mast of the dinghy. He instantly sat across from her, eyes wrought with worry. Though this was the first time the old friendshad seen each other since Singapore, Will was too panicked for pleasantries. He looked down, seeing the open chest with his own heart beating inside. “What is it? What’s the matter with the heart?”

“Nothing,” Rose said in a calm tone. “We just needed a way to call you here.”

“What’s the matter? Elizabeth?”

“She’s fine, I assure you.”

“What is it then?” His eyes searched hers.

Rose reached out and laid her hand atop his. “I cannot say. You must simply come with me.”

Will shook his head. “I can’t go ashore…”

“I know,” Rose replied. “That’s why we came to you.”

She then steered the boat back towards the town docks and with the wind on their side, it was a very quick journey. The spoke not a word further, as Will was wringing his hands in anxiety. Rose wished she could assuage his fears, but she was keenly aware that this moment was not hers to reveal. The docks were in sight now, and upon seeing them, Elizabeth stood from the crate where she had been sitting and walked to the furthest edge of the dock. Rose kept her eyes on Will as she saw his eyes find his wife. Suddenly, his brow furrowed upon seeing the bundle she carried in her arms.

“R-Rose?” he stammered. “That- Is that…?”

Rose grinned, though her eyes teared up. “It is.”

Will smiled larger than she had ever seen before and laid a hand on his face in disbelief. “When? And…everything is alright? I…I have so many questions!”

“Everything was fine,” she said. “Everything _is_ fine. You see why we had to call you now?”

He gave a slight laugh, breath still short with his sheer joy. “Girl or boy?” he asked.

“Boy.”

“Name?”

“Well, that’s another matter,” she began. “We decided upon William, family legacy and all. But with three William’s around now, we figured that might become terribly confusing. We’ve resorted to calling him by his middle name.”

Will leaned towards her in interest. “Which is?”

Rose shrugged. “Up to you.”

They were incredibly close to the dock now, and Rose swiftly reached out and tied the dinghy as tightly as she could to make sure it was secure. She then helped Elizabeth aboard, where she shared a tearful reunion with her love. Rose climbed out and back onto the dock, where she wandered off for a time so that the new family could have privacy. When she did come back a time later, her heart felt as though it was going to burst at the sight of Will holding his son, and Elizabeth resting her head on Will’s shoulder with her arms wrapped around his neck.

“Well,” Rose interjected, looking down at them from the dock. “What’s his name?”

Will and Elizabeth exchanged a glance. They clearly hadn’t gotten that far. Will looked back down at his son, examining his face.

“Henry?” he asked Elizabeth finally.

She nodded and whispered, “Henry.”

Rose grinned. _Henry Turner._ And with parents like Will and Elizabeth, Rose knew he would grow to become someone amazing.

Will shifted, looking back towards the _Dutchman,_ which bobbed on the waves with sails furled, waiting for him. He looked back to his wife, face somber. “Another horrible sunset approaches.”

Elizabeth laid a hand on his cheek. “It’s not horrible. It means one day less before you can come home to me.”

He leaned in to kiss her, then he regarded his sleeping son once more. “Be good to your mother, you,” he murmured, then slowly, reluctantly, he handed him back to Elizabeth. “Be good…Henry,” he murmured.

Rose helped Elizabeth back to the docks where she stood, and together, they looked back at Will to say their goodbyes.

Will, however, extended a hand. “Rose?” he asked expectantly. Rose was confused by this, for all Will had to do was meld back into her dinghy and instantly, he would arrive back on the _Dutchman_ ’s deck in time to return to the Locker. He was wanting her to sail them back out to open waters, away from Elizabeth. Rose suddenly realized…this was intentional. There was something Will wanted to speak to her privately about. She took his hand and was helped aboard, then prepared to make sail.

Will stayed planted as close to the dock as he could get as he looked up Elizabeth and Henry. “Every time I leave it gets harder and harder to do so,” he said.

Elizabeth nodded, placing a hand on the side of his face once more. “We’ll be here, keeping a weather eye on the horizon for you, my love.”

As Rose unfurled her sail and the boat pulled away from the dock against the incoming tide, Will sat, staring at his new family as they grew smaller and smaller from his sight. Distantly, they heard Henry begin to cry, and Rose saw Will’s face twist up in pain. She stayed quiet, waiting for him to approach her first.

He stayed there until Elizabeth was but a blur in the distance, then he said softly to himself, “I have a son.” He turned inwards towards her, though his eyes were still downcast. “I have a son,” he repeated. His face then contorted once more. “I have a son…who I will see what, five more times at most? And each time, he will have grown so that he is unrecognizable to me.”

Rose felt a pang of empathy surge through her. “My god, Will,” she said. “Should we not have told you? Should we have waited until the ten years were up? I…I am so sorry!”

He considered this for a moment, then looked sincerely at her. “No,” he replied. “I’m so glad you _did._ This gave me the hope I needed. And now I return to two of my family.” He then shifted so that he took her hands in his. Earnestly, he implored her, “You’ve already done so much for us, and I wouldn’t dream of asking more, but you will see to it that they’re safe?”

“Of course,” Rose whispered.

“And lastly,” he said, swallowing his reluctance, “Please don’t call me here again. Not unless there’s something terribly wrong, god forbid.”

She shook her head, “No, of course. I shouldn’t have—“

“No,” Will protested, “No, I sincerely thank you. I just…I pray that you never have to live this hell. It’s unthinkable. But at least the moments I have with him amount to more than nothing at all. Just knowing Henry exists will make the unbearably long days before I see him again fly by, I know this. Just…it’s too painful to return more often than that.”

“I understand,” Rose said. She then followed his gaze to the _Dutchman,_ which, upon seeing the dinghy approaching, unfurled her sails and began to sail towards the horizon. It was time for Will to depart.

He embraced her firmly. “Thank you,” he said. “I will relish the day I discover who you and my wife have raised my son to be.” 

When they released, Rose smiled and said, “I will see you in nine years, Captain.”

“Yes,” he replied. He looked up, as though trying to remember something. “What is it you once said? ‘When there’s reason to smile again,’ was it?”

“Aye. When there’s reason to smile again,” she quietly spoke. Will nodded at her, then, before her eyes, was gone. Rose immediately turned back so that she could make it safely back to shore before her eyesight waned, but she turned to face the sunset.

 _Seldom times, one can spot a green flash along the horizon,_ Rose heard her mother’s voice flitter by from days long since past. _You remember when I told you that there are those who can travel between the worlds?_

Rose closed her eyes and smiled. “Aye, maman,” she whispered to no one.

_The flash of green indicates when a soul enters the Land of the Living from the Land of the Dead! Wait and see…_

Rose opened her eyes, catching the last glimpse of sunlight dip below the horizon. She blinked when the green flash burst, completely engulfing Will’s ship in a split second. They were gone.

Rose took a moment to consider her life and all of its many strange occurrences up to that moment. Never would she have guessed that a once parentless gypsy girl would grow to manage an island fortress with the Pirate King, and help to raise the son she bore with the successor to Davy Jones. In that moment, Rose realized that for all her weaknesses, she wasn’t like her mother at all. She was stronger.

 _Read it again Rose…_ Anna’s voice haunted her for the a last and final time.

“Desolee, maman,” Rose replied. “I don’t think I will this time.”


	5. Henry

“Henry!” Rose called from the doorway of the townhouse of Mathilde and Thomas Davis. “Come along now!” _Please come quickly, Henry,_ Rose thought to herself as she tapped her foot anxiously. _Please, before Mathilde has a chance to corner us—_

But it was too late. In the open doorway appeared a bitter-looking Mathilde, auburn hair perched high above her head. Her arms were crossed as she looked at Rose with disapproval.

“Where’s Mrs. Turner?” she said, voice laced with sass.

Rose delivered it right back. “Preoccupied with an incoming ship,” she said. “She sent me to pick him up.”

Mathilde pursed her lips, glaring at her. “He’s in here,” she said, motioning with her head towards the inside of her home.

Rose raised an eyebrow. “Well, could you bring him _outside,_ please? We must be on our way.”

Mathilde rolled her eyes and sauntered back into the darkness of her home to go fetch the boy. Rose was seething. If Henry was _her_ son, she would have nothing to do with this family. Mathilde was an educated maid originally from England who fell in love with Thomas, a sailor, and stowed away on his ship to elope, only then to become pirates. When Mathilde was pregnant with her second child, however, they decided that it was time to find a permanent home, and after the war, they found Shipwreck Cove. Thomas was a skilled merchant and helped manage the market in the town, while Mathilde stayed at home raising her now four equally bitter children. They were all of comparable age to Henry, who was now four years old, and Elizabeth trusted Mathilde to watch over him whenever there was business to attend to. Rose supposed that this was wise; In dealing with sometimes cutthroat and dangerous pirates from all walks of life, it was not safe to keep a small child around. She just wished that it didn’t have to be _Mathilde…_

Mathilde reappeared, leading a sniffling Henry out the door.

“My god, Henry!” Rose cried, rushing toward him and kneeling so that she was looking right at him. “What’s the matter?”

Henry’s dark eyes were rimming with tears again as he said sadly, “They made fun of me. Said I told lies.”

“Who said that?” Rose asked, glaring at Mathilde. She knew full well who said that—her older daughters.

“Odette n’ Caroline,” he confirmed. “But I told them! Father’s helping save souls! He’s doing it right now! Is he?”

Rose grimaced. She knew this day would eventually come. Elizabeth was not about to lie to Henry about where or who his father was, but Henry couldn’t yet understand why it was so important that he never reveal that information. If anyone knew that it was Elizabeth’s husband who captained the _Flying Dutchman,_ they could very easily use that against them, either blackmailing the family or harming Will’s heart, which was still hidden on the island.

Rose was trying to find a way to calm Henry down in a delicate way, and she finally decided to do so by asking him, “Do _you_ believe he is?”

Henry nodded adamantly.

Rose smiled. “Then he is.”

Mathilde snorted. “You should be ashamed of yourself,” she spat at Rose. “Feeding the boy that nonsense poison. It’ll only harm him, you know.”

Rose stood, taking Henry’s hand and looking at her square in the eyes. “Say goodbye to Mrs. Davis, Henry,” she said in monotone.

“Goodbye, Mrs. Davis,” repeated a now far happier Henry, who began to skip alongside Rose as she walked away. She would have successfully made it off their property as fast as she could if the sound of snickering didn’t stop her. Looking in the direction of the sound, she saw the girls Odette and Caroline peering out from behind the household’s wood shed. Rose caught one of them whispering, “sea witch” to the other, and Rose tried not to let it bother her as she continued on her way. It had been slow to build, but gossip from nearly five years previous had now the entirety of the town distrusting her. When Calypso was freed, Rose, onboard her father’s ship at the time, collapsed into a seizure. She regained consciousness shortly thereafter, and watched as Calypso created a maelstrom to return to the Locker. However, Teague’s crew had seen the strange timing of Calypso’s freedom and Rose’s episode, and a few superstitious men assumed that it was she who had caused the maelstrom. Once ashore, this rumor spread and eventually gained traction. Now, Rose couldn’t go anywhere without being called, “sea witch” or being treated as though she were plague-ridden. Rose thought it was incredibly convenient, however, that whenever anyone was ailing and in need of her assistance, these prejudices disappeared almost entirely until after they were healed and out of her care.

Rose was drawn out of her stewing rage when she felt Henry pull his hand from hers. “Mother!” he cried, racing ahead.

Elizabeth was walking right towards them. She scooped Henry up into a wide embrace. “Oh my boy!” she said with a grin. “How I missed you today!”

“You finished early,” Rose remarked.

“Aye,” replied Elizabeth. “Captain Atencio settled on a silk trade for a dozen barrels of rum.”

“Ooh,” Rose winced. “Bet he wasn’t happy about _that._ ”

Elizabeth shrugged. “I told him if he wanted a week at the Cove, that’s all I was willing to part with.”

“Mrs. Turner!” Mathilde cried from the house. “A word?” Rose cringed, knowing full well what this was about.

Elizabeth, balancing Henry on her hip, gave Rose an amused look. “What have you done now?”

“I exist,” snorted Rose.

Elizabeth chuckled. “Any guesses on what Mathilde could possibly want to talk about?” she asked sarcastically, for every time Henry spent the afternoon here, it was always the same conversation. “‘Don't you think the both of you would be better off without that Hexfury girl? She’s a bad influence, I tell you,’” Elizabeth mimicked.

Rose laughed. “Aye, but this time I fear that it’s something more.”

Elizabeth raised her eyebrows in interest. “Oh? Anything wrong?”

“Only a bit, but we can discuss it later.”

Elizabeth shook her head. “No, we’ll discuss it now.” She turned to Mathilde, waved her hand and called out, “Apologies, Mrs. Davis! We really must be hurrying along! Thank you ever so much!”

Rose grinned as Elizabeth lowered Henry down to the ground and let him run ahead as long as he stuck to the path they were taking back to the Cove as they left the Davis home.

“What happened?” Elizabeth asked in concern.

“Henry was telling them about Will,” Rose replied, giving a concerned, sidelong glance.

Elizabeth laid a hand on the side of her face in frustration. “Splendid,” she said sarcastically. “How much did he tell them?”

“Not enough to convince them it was the truth,” replied Rose. “They think I’m bewitching his mind, or something like that.”

“Well, that’s not entirely untrue,” Elizabeth said disapprovingly with narrowed eyes. “Where’s he been getting the freshly cut sugar cane, Hexfury?”

Rose chuckled and feigned innocence. “I know not, I swear!” she lied. “Certainly not I, despite having paying off traders for a large shipment of exactly that!”

“I’m his mother, shouldn’t _I_ be the one to spoil him rotten?”

Rose pushed her shoulder against her friend’s playfully. “Oh come now! Let me have this! I need a child to spoil.” Then, growing a bit more contemplative, she said, “Lord knows _I’m_ never going to have the chance for one of my own…”

Elizabeth looked over at her at this. “Don’t say that,” she reassured her. “Lord knows what your future holds. And what ever happened to Matthew?”

Rose shook her head. Matthew was a pirate who once frequented Rose’s storeroom for trade a few months back. Elizabeth was convinced that his returned visits were a result of an attraction to Rose, and convinced her to approach him. They spoke awhile, but nothing ever came of it. When it came down to it, Rose simply wasn’t invested. Her mind felt muddled whenever they would meet, and she hardly would hear a word he’d say. She could still feel herself repressing the hurt from heartbreaks of years past. “He grew disinterested,” Rose told Elizabeth. “He hasn’t been around in months.”

“Not worth it anyway,” Elizabeth shrugged. Then, after a moment, she exclaimed, “What about the butcher?”

Rose raised an incredulous eyebrow and looked at her in horror. “The _butcher_? Elizabeth, if I wanted to waste my time on a men who deals in chopping up animals, I’d marry a shark.” She shook her head and took a deep breath. “No, I’m…fine. I’ll be fine.”

“You seem restless to me,” said Elizabeth. Rose would never know just how she did it; how she was always able to see right through her. She continued, “You _do._ You’re a gypsy, Rose. You’re meant to move from place to place, not stay here. This doesn’t seem to be a good fit for you.” She could see that her words were getting through to Rose, so she lowered her voice and suggested, “If you left, it would be fine, you know. Get your own ship and crew, see the world…”

Rose quickly shook her head. “No, I made a promise to stay here.”

“To my paranoid and protective husband who was freshly emotional on discovering that he then had a son!” Elizabeth protested. “No one would blame you if you left, Rose. Henry and I can manage.”

Rose would be lying if she said that she didn’t feel constricted by Shipwreck, especially now that the entire town treated her like an outcast. The reason she decided to leave behind Jack and the _Pearl_ once the war was one in the first place was twofold; to help Elizabeth, and to satisfy her newfound purpose of helping those in need. While she cherished both of these reasons, it was true—Rose had gypsy and pirate blood, and inevitably longed for adventure. But to her, leaving was impossible at this point. The last time she went back on her word, it meant Jack’s death. She wasn’t about to test fate again. She smiled as she said, “Out of the question. I’m here to stay.” Upon seeing Elizabeth’s skeptical expression, she emphatically insisted, “I _promise,_ I’m fine!”

Elizabeth only sighed, reluctantly letting the subject go. She gazed ahead at the path, smiling when she saw Henry pick up a stick and start swinging away at the air in front of him, no doubt picturing some imaginary foe he was doing battle with.

Rose saw this too, and she chuckled. “Ah, a budding swordsmen, eh?”

“Like father, like son,” Elizabeth agreed. She then furrowed her brow, growing worried. “I’m not raising him poorly, am I?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Rose snorted bitterly, as both of her parents were relative nonentities in her childhood. Then, more sincerely, she replied, “No, I don’t think one bit, Elizabeth. He’s sweet and bright and healthy. What more could you ask for?”

“It’s not that. Should…should I stop talking about Will to him? Until the time comes when he is to return? Henry will perhaps forget…”

“Oh he most definitely will,” Rose said. “And I don’t think that that is at all wise. Take it from someone who knows what it’s like to grow up wondering who their father is, the less you know, the more room there is to imagine who he may be, and bigger yet, why he doesn’t want to be with you. What it is about _you_ that makes him not want to be with you.” She looked at Elizabeth sincerely. “Keep telling him about Will. The truth. We’ll remind him to keep it a secret between us, but definitely keep telling him.” Just then, the three of them had come just at the top of the crest leading down to the Cove as sunset grew ever nearer. Upon looking at the piled ships that made up the fortress, Rose said, “Speaking of absent fathers,” Rose said, “Would the both of you care to join _mine_ for dinner tonight?”

* * *

Together at one end of the great table where the Brethren Court once met, Rose, Teague, Elizabeth, and Henry dined together. 

Wiping his mouth on a napkin, Teague said aloud, “I thank ye both for giving me something other than salted pork. It’s been too long of anything else.”

“Come now, Father,” Rose joked, “We all know that your diet primarily consists of rum.”

Teague grinned, considering this. “Well, you’re not _wrong…_ ”

Elizabeth laughed, then said, “We wouldn’t be eating much more than salted pork if trade hadn’t been so excellent recently.”

“Is that right?” Teague asked. “My, what you lasses have been able to do with this island is something admirable.”

“Really?” Elizabeth asked in interest.

“Aye. Nary a pirate would come close to this place on account of the name, let alone for trade or restocking. This place is a veritable community now.”

“That was the idea,” Elizabeth said with a smile.

Teague looked to Rose. “Wish Jack could see it. He wouldn’t even _recognize_ the place.”

Rose leaned forward, hands folded on the table. “Where _is_ Jack?” she asked. “Have you seen him recently?”

Teague sighed, leaning back in his chair and placing his napkin on his plate. “Well, that actually brings me to why I’m here.” He looked up at her, asking darkly, “What do you know of the Fountain of Youth?”

Rose closed her eyes and shook her head. “Of course. Of course _that’s_ what he’s chasing.”

“Does it really exist?” Elizabeth asked, enthralled.

“Aye,” Rose said, struggling to remember the details. “Tia Dalma…Calypso would taught me a bit about it long ago. It’s on the Florida coast, hidden away. It’s a bay…White-something…”

“White Cap Bay,” Teague finished.

“That’s it!” exclaimed Rose. “The Spanish explorer, Ponce de Leon, supposedly charted it centuries ago.”

“Aye, but he was never seen again after that,” Teague added. “Rumor has it, he and his ship are still there.”

Rose raised an eyebrow. “Seems to me like you know quite a deal about the Fountain,” she said. “What _don’t_ you already know?”

“Just about everything else, I’m afraid,” he admitted. “I figured what with all your time spent with Calypso, she would have told you something more than what I’ve been able to pick up.”

Rose continued thinking, until finally it came to her. “Yes…I believe she said that there were…two chalices. And with water from the Fountain and…oh it was something strange and mythical…”

“Could it have to do with mermaids?” Teague asked. “White Cap Bay is known for its mermaid-infested waters.”

“Mermaids?” a previously preoccupied Henry cried out excitedly. “I want to see mermaids!”

Teague laughed, drawing closer to him. “No, I’m ‘fraid you don’t, lad. These mermaids aren’t pretty like in pictures. They’ve got sharp teeth that’ll snatch you right up,” he growled, lunging towards him playfully. Henry was unafraid at this, and only giggled as he retreated back into his chair.

“I do believe it _was_ mermaids,” Rose said. “I think it’s a tear from a mermaid. One cup gets the tear, one doesn’t. One of them takes the remaining years off of one and gives it to the other. Which one, however, I’m not certain.”

“But wait,” asked Elizabeth. “How will Jack find the Fountain, if it is so hidden away?”

“Word around the Caribbean says that he’s been asking around about it with a ‘spinning map,’” Teague answered, giving the women a pointed glance. Instantly, they both knew exactly what that meant—Jack had the chart of Sao Feng that Will had stolen on their reconnaissance mission in Singapore before heading to retrieve Jack from Davy Jones’s Locker. “Word also has it,” Teague said, looking specifically at Rose, “He’s alone. And without a ship.”

Rose’s heart felt like it had fallen into her stomach. “He’s without the _Pearl?”_

Teague shrugged. “Barbossa must’ve mutinied against him again.”

“No!” Rose said. “I’m almost certain he doesn’t have the ship either! He came here a few years back looking unsightly. His leg was gone, and he seemed to be on his own. Do you think Jack…did that to him and made off with the _Pearl_ as some sort of revenge, perhaps? Before losing it himself?”

“Jack’s not that sadistic, I don’t care who the person is or what ill they did him,” Teague said. “And no, all my evidence suggests Jack was left behind first.”

“So…no one has the _Pearl?_ ” Elizabeth suggested.

Teague shook his head. “Oh I assure you, someone has the _Pearl_. The question is who and why.”

“And where,” Rose added. “For wherever she is, I’m sure Jack is close behind in pursuit.”

“It all comes down to what Jack wants more—the _Pearl_ or the Fountain,” said Teague.

“Come now, you know he wants both simultaneously. That makes our job infinitely harder.” Rose suddenly remembered, “Barbossa might be a source! He might know where Jack is. I know its been years, but when he was here, I saw him chart a route to the island of St. Martin, then up towards England.”

Elizabeth cocked her head to the side, pondering this. “I’m curious as to what he expects to find there…”

“Closer to home, perhaps?” Teague said. “Or perhaps he’s gone to join the Navy.”

The three of them laughed aloud at that impossible notion, then Rose said, “So, do you reckon Jack will find out all of the requirements for the Fountain to work for his benefit entirely on his own?”

“Unlikely,” Teague snorted. “That’s why I came to you. Jack would be insistent upon finding out the information, but I’m going to do my damnedest to get involved before he voyages out there alone.”

“I want to voyage with Captain Jack Sparrow!” Henry piped up. Turning to Elizabeth, he asked, “Can I go, Mother? That way Jack won’t _be_ alone! It’ll be an adventure.”

“No, no, no,” Elizabeth said firmly. “You’re not adventuring _anywhere_ with Captain Jack Sparrow _ever,_ not if I have any say in it.” Suddenly, she realized who she was keeping company with, and turned apologetically to Jack’s sister and father, saying, “No offense.”

Both sister and father, however, completely understood, saying at the same time, “None taken,” and “By all means, I agree.”

“But Mother!” Henry began to whine.

“Do you know what? I believe it’s just about time for bed anyway,” Elizabeth said, rising to take Henry away.

“No, I’m not sleepy!” he protested.

“Now, now, none of that! Off to bed with you!”

Henry was willing to concede on one condition. “Sing me the locket song, Mother!” he implored.

“Come now, Henry. Let’s not bother Rose,” said Elizabeth.

“Please?” he implored.

“How about I sing you some other song?” she tried.

But the little boy was insistent. “No, the locket song!”

Elizabeth gave an exasperated sigh and looked to Rose as if to say, _What am I to do with this one?_

Rose laughed, standing and leading the way downstairs to where her silver crab locket was sitting on her bedside table. “Honestly, it’s fine. I’m quite fond of the song myself, actually.”

“Don’t _you_ start too,” Elizabeth warned.

Henry bounced with joy to the bedroom, tugging at his mother’s arm, and Rose returned, handing the locket over to a grateful Elizabeth, then followed along at a distance behind them. She waited in the hallway as she heard Elizabeth settle her son into the bed, unfasten the locket, then heard the ever-familiar, haunting melody of Calypso’s locket begin to play. Elizabeth waited for the song to reset back to its original loop, then began to sing lyrics she had devised back when Henry was a baby.

> _Cruel and cold like winds on the sea,_
> 
> _Till the day he returns to me,_
> 
> _Ten long years we’ll wait to go by,_
> 
> _Our love will never die_
> 
> _…love will never die…_

 

She then let the song play out to completion before clicking it shut once she was certain Henry was asleep, then silently left the room. Elizabeth handed it back to Rose, mouthing, “Thank you,” and then they both went back upstairs, where Teague was fastening his effects once more to himself.

“What’s this?” Rose asked, seeing him prepare to depart. “Leaving so soon?”

“You said it yourself, Rosie,” he replied. “If anyone will know about the _Pearl_ or Jack, it’ll be Barbossa. I’m off to England to see what I can find.”

Out of the corner of her eyes, Rose saw Elizabeth staring intently at her, but she dared not return the glance, which most definitely was suggesting, _Go with him!_

Rose only smiled at her father, saying simply, “Safe travels. Find my brother.”

Teague grinned, squeezing her shoulder with one hand. That was about as affectionate as father and daughter were comfortable with, their relationship remaining still rather undefined and strained. “I will do my best for you, Rosie,” he said.

He moved to descend the stairs, but Elizabeth caught his arm before leaving. “As ever, Captain, thank you for your company.”

“You as well, Majesty,” he replied, making Elizabeth smile widely.

Elizabeth waited until he was completely gone before speaking her thoughts aloud. “Fool,” she said good-naturedly to Rose. “Why wouldn’t you voyage with him? Go find and warn Jack together?”

Rose gave her a sidelong glance. “We’ve been through this, Elizabeth,” she said. “I’m not leaving.”

She crossed her arms and pursed her lips. “Suit yourself, but you’re making a mistake, I’m certain of it.”

Rose did long for more, but she was torn by her sense of duty to Will. In retrospect, however, it was a blessing that Rose _did_ stay, given what was about to happen and who was about to come knocking on Rose’s door. If she hadn’t stayed, disaster would have struck the Turner family. Rose’s presence meant that the worst was prevented, although it also would lead to her ultimate doom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cannot take credit for the lyrics to Calypso's locket. They come from YouTuber Fialeja. Please listen to the full song, it's absolutely gorgeous.


	6. The Nightmare

Weeks passed, and one terrible night, Rose had another of her legendary nightmares. Henry was in grave danger. He was standing on a burning ship, crying for help. She didn't know where she was in relation to him, but she couldn't do anything but watch in silent horror. Flames began to swallow the sails. She heard an ominous creak, and her heart stopped as she watched a beam quiver and crack, falling straight down. She felt an intense pressure on her throat as she lost sight of Henry behind the flaming beam. Once it made contact with the burning deck, she awakened.

But the pressure on her throat didn't subside. _That_ was real. She was still surrounded by darkness, as it was dark in her room. But her arms flailed wildly as she felt the incredible pressure on her throat tighten. Someone was in her room, and he was prepared to kill her.

He was leaning over her, standing on the right side of her bed, whoever he was. Her left arm grabbed one of his wrists, while the right flew instinctively to the floor beneath her bed, where she had a knife stationed. She was most vulnerable in her bed at night, where she was utterly blind to the world, and she had lived amongst pirates long enough to know never to trust them. That was why she had some form of weapon nearby for any situation.

The knife fell just beyond her reach. It was futile. His grip tightened. Her right arm gave up on the knife and flew up to his wrist to try and loosen his grip. The pressure only grew tighter. Her eyes rolled back in her head and her mouth gasped for air she was blocked from attaining.

Suddenly, the pressure ceased. Someone else was pulling on his shoulders. "Stop it! This is not civil!" It was a young man.

The brute who had her neck in his grasp reluctantly let her go. Rose felt her chest explode in size as her lungs searched for air. She started coughing and gagging, hands reaching for her bruised throat, almost as if she no longer believed it was still there.

Her coughing subsided enough to hear the next voice. The voice she didn't even know was in the room with her. A voice she had never again thought she would hear, and _hoped_ she would never hear again.

"He's right. I told you to take her into the other room!” barked Angelica.

Rose felt as though she had been punched in the stomach, on top of already having been nearly strangled. "Angelica?" she tried to say, but collapsed into another coughing fit as she struggled to sit up.

"Your henchman would have killed her had I not turned the corner!" the young man said.

She heard the click of Angelica's pistol, and he stopped talking. "Don't make me take his side." Rose's assailant was still silent. She heard a clomping of feet, and she assumed yet another man was in her room.

"Both of you," Angelica ordered. "Take her to the downstairs room!"

Rose was instantly lifted off the ground from both of her arms by the two silent men. Her feet barely touched the ground as they flew from her room to her storeroom. Her harsh breathing persisted, but the pain was gone. Her eyesight was slowly restored as she saw that they had lit the candles in the room.

The two men threw her to the ground. Instinctively, she screamed. It was her only chance to alert Elizabeth that she was in danger, although the fortress was so large that she doubted that would work. She felt a sharp pain at the top of her head upon screaming, as Angelica instantly grabbed her hair and pressed the barrel of her gun to her throat.

"Try that again and it’ll be the last thing you’ll ever do!"

Rose looked up at her after she released her, gun still aimed at her head. Angelica was undoubtedly older, yet looked far healthier whence last Rose had last seen her. Her eyes gleamed with satisfaction at having taken Rose by surprise. Rose slowly examined the room. It was in complete disarray and looked completely ransacked. Many of her shelves had been turned over, chairs were upside down, items were scattered and broken, and papers were strewn all across the floor. Rose had been so engrossed in the nightmare, that even the chaos downstairs wasn't enough to wake her.

Now to her assailants; Angelica stood directly in front of her, bandana tying back her dark hair. She had outgrown dresses, having traded in her skirts for trousers and an ornamented red coat, pushed to the side by her sheathed sword. Next to her was the young man who had initially saved her life. He had fair hair and handsome features. He was quite young, and his eyes were full of sympathy. Next were the two brutes who had picked her up and delivered her here. One was adjacent to her left, while the other stood at the door. These men sent shivers down her spine. Their eyes were hollow and distant. They were shirtless and muscular, bodies warped and swollen, their skin cut and sewn together.

These men were undead.

It was Calypso who had taught Angelica about zombies, but Rose didn't expect that she had the wherewithal to actually make them into a reality.

Despite her horror at the mere existence of these things, men who weren't even allowed to rest in peace, the last man in the room was undoubtedly the worst. The long, dark beard and dense, cold shark eyes seemed to bore into her skull told her instantly who it was.

It was Blackbeard, Angelica's father.

Rose closed her eyes and shook her head. _Of course they were here._ She directed her words at Angelica. "I see you found your father."

She smiled wryly and held her hand up. Clutched in her fist was Calypso's locket. "I see you found yours."

Rose tried to calm the rage roaring within her, and merely looked at her. "He's not here, you know. Jack? I have no idea where he is."

"We aren't here for your moronic brother, Madam Hexfury," Blackbeard said from his corner of the room. Perhaps the most frightening thing about him was the placidity in which he delivered his words. Throughout their entire encounter, he never lost this austere demeanor. No anger, no wrath, no joy...just...nothing. He continued. "We're here for some information you have. Information we need.”

Rose’s stomach dropped. Were they hear to threaten Will’s heart? What had this crew discovered, and how did they find her? Rose had to act like she knew nothing. "Angelica had just as much training as I did from Tia Dalma—“

But she didn't get a chance to finish her thought, when his piercing words sliced over hers. "Angelica!"

Angelica lowered her gaze on Rose and obediently chirped, "Yes, father." Rose had never seen this side of Angelica. She was...frightened. For the first time in her life, Rose witnessed Angelica’s fear of another person.

"I thought you said that we would have no part in heathen prophets like the soothsayer you were so cursed to live with!"

Ah. So Blackbeard was devoutly religious. Thus, Angelica's time in a convent was well explained.

"Father," Angelica's voice was nearly pleading. "The stories of the heathens provide clues as to where we can harness great power."

"I state again," Rose bravely repeated, "Angelica has just as much knowledge as I do."

Angelica tossed the locket at her feet. " _Apparently not."_

Rose swallowed. She had no choice but to comply. "What do you want to know?" she asked ruefully.

“We want information about a certain mystical item that gains eternal life.”

Rose winced. Desperate, she pleaded, “Listen to me. I know not what the people of the town have told you, but I know nothing about the chest.”

Angelica and Blackbeard exchanged a mutually surprised glance which made Rose’s heart stop. _They weren’t here about the chest._ Rose had just given that information away accidentally.

“We don’t seek a chest, but if it too offers eternal life, I’ll gladly take that information from you as well,” Blackbeard said. “We search for something else entirely, however.”

Angelica knelt next to her, gun still aimed at her head. She murmured threateningly, "L'Aqua de Vida. _The Fountain of Youth."_

Rose's eyes went wide. Angelica knew how much Rose knew about the Fountain of Youth because of what Tia had taught her. How was it that Angelica, Jack, and Teague all sought the same item?

"Once again I say," Rose spat, "Angelica knows just as much as I do about the Fountain."

Angelica smirked. "Tia Dalma told me some, but I suspect there is more to know. And since we visited her shack first and found it to be abandoned, we asked around and found the apple of her eye instead: you! Tell us what you know."

Rose swallowed. "It's in a secret location. A secret cave. But one cannot simply drink the waters once they enter, for it will not work. There are a few ingredients you need." She paused, anticipating someone to ask her what they were, but they all were fixated on her words, so she continued. "First are the chalices, last known to be found by Ponce De Leon. Find the chalices, and drink the water."

"Is that all?" Angelica asked.

Rose considered, then remembered. The mermaid tear. She decided was going to be conservative in what she told them about this detail, as it was the most important.

"No. That's it," Rose lied. Suddenly, to her horror, Henry materialized, probably hearing the commotion and racing downstairs to investigate. He looked in alarm at the large strangers looming over Rose. When he saw Rose kneeling captive on the ground, he fearlessly rushed to one of the zombies, hitting him in the leg as ferociously as his little fists could muster. “Let her go!” he cried.

“HENRY, NO!” Rose cried out, but it was no use. The boy was already in too much danger. The zombies merely exchanged an amused glance, then the one who was being “attacked” by him simply leaned down and gripped his upper arm, causing him to struggle.

Blackbeard domineeringly stalked over to Henry, peering down at him.

“Who are you?” the boy asked.

“Who are _you_?” Blackbeard retorted in an oddly charming yet very malicious way.

Henry was on the verge of tears. “Why are you hurting us?” he whimpered.

Blackbeard raised his eyebrows. “Why indeed. Quartermaster, release the boy.” The zombie obeyed, but Henry was then rendered motionless by Blackbeard himself, who stood behind him with hands on his shoulders, preventing him from fleeing anywhere. “Henry, was it?” he said in a sickeningly sweet way. Looking back to Rose, he then spat, "Your story and that of the mystic's does not quite add up." Rose's heart raced, as she feared the worst for the little child. "Tell us the final ingredient, Madam Hexfury," he said.

"A mermaid's tear," she grumbled.

"Mermaids? Those exist?" said the young man who seemed reluctant if not wholeheartedly against Blackbeard and Angelica.

"Quiet, fool! Of course they exist!" Blackbeard barked at him. The man fell silent once more.

"The mermaid's tear in one of the chalices will give life, while the other will drain the remaining years from the other,” Rose complied.

"Pray tell where we will find the Fountain," Blackbeard asked. "And the chalices...and the mermaids. Tis only fair." Rose watched at he ran his blackened fingers through Henry's hair menacingly, and she knew she had no choice but to cooperate for his sake. She looked at Henry once more, who looked bewildered and frightened. Rose had to keep him safe...

"A map," she reported, yet even then she told a lie. "Its locations are very discreet. Not even I know where they are."

Blackbeard cocked his head to the side and for a moment he was pensive. Then he shot a dark glance at the zombie nearest him. "Is she telling the truth?" he asked him.

The zombie simply responded, "She lies."

Rose's heart sank. The one fatal flaw in her plan; Rose had forgotten the fact that zombies are foreseers of what's to come and what lies beneath. Blackbeard's eyes glinted murderously, as he calmly responded to the zombie, " _Kill her."_

The creature pulled his gun on her and loaded the barrel.

Believe it or not, Rose was entirely calm and expectant during this event. She had often thought that her downfall would be at the hand of Angelica. It was the others who made a commotion.

“No! Please stop!” Henry began to wail, tears running down his poor face. Then the young man started yelling. "Please! Captain, this is not the way!" He grasped Angelica's arm. "Stop this! It isn't right! Not in front of the boy!" Angelica just stood there, staring at at him helplessly.

"Quiet, missionary!" Blackbeard snapped.

"If you are set on killing her, don't do it in front of the boy!" the missionary protested again.

"It's time the lad learns the cruelties of life!" Blackbeard stated. "I was killing men twice your size when I was only a few years his senior!"

The missionary pulled himself right up to Blackbeard, peering unafraid into his nearly jet black eyes. "And maybe that's the difference between darkness and light. What did this boy ever do to deserve this? Or his mother for that matter?"

Blackbeard pulled his sword on the man, causing him to back up into Rose's table. "I'm warning you, missionary. The only reason you're here is because my darling daughter has hopes of my soul's redemption. Be warned! If you persist, you'll be tied to the crow's next and left for dead in the baking sun and hungry birds, and then I'll have _you_ kill her _and_ the boy yourself!"

The missionary looked horrified, but said nothing, glancing frantically between Rose and Henry, two strangers yet two people he carried compassion for. Blackbeard turned back towards the zombie and gave a quick nod. Rose heard the click of the barrel and then...

"Stop!" Angelica cried. Rose opened her eyes. All of the people in the room turned their attention to Angelica, who had not moved. Could this have been some residual sympathy for the days of our childhood the girls had spent together? She looked at Blackbeard and said, "She still has information on the map. She is of more use to us alive than dead, Father.”

Blackbeard looked impressed. “Indeed,” he growled. “From what you say, she has endured much pain. Killing her would be a gift.” He looked at a trembling Henry. "Threatening someone she loved would hurt her more."

Rose felt a pit in her stomach. Even though Henry was not her son, as the others had mistaken him to be, Rose helped bring Henry into this world. Her entire life was restricted to Shipwreck because of his existence and her loyalty to his parents. Henry was her life. "No," she cried. "I'm begging you, leave him out of this!"

The zombie's pistol was turned on Henry, who looked at Rose with grave panic. The missionary was again pleading with them. "This is not the way of light! He is an innocent child!”

Even Angelica tried to speak up. “Father, I must—“

“Quiet!” he barked, silencing her.

Rose loved Jack. But ultimately, he was a capable adult who had overcome death itself. Henry was an inexperienced boy, defenseless. Rose had no choice. "Jack! Jack has the map!"

Blackbeard looked to the zombie with the loaded pistol for corroboration. He nodded, and slowly released his hold on his weapon. He laughed darkly. "Ah of course. Sparrow has the map." He pulled a dagger from his belt and handed it to Angelica, who had a foreign bundle in her own hands. She began to approach Rose expressionless as Blackbeard growled, "Then there is only one thing to do, _mademoiselle._ "

Then she saw it. The voodoo doll. It was decorated to look like Jack. So this was the plan after all. To take Rose for all she had, then on top of all that, use the blood she shared with Jack to control and manipulate him as she saw fit. The zombie grabbed Rose's shoulders as she tried to wriggle away from her ever-nearing dagger.

Then the incision. Angelica stuck the tip of her dagger in Rose's right cheek and twisted the blade, making a small cut in the shape of an X. She then pulled out the blade and made a similar incision on the doll's face. As soon as her blood made contact with the doll's exterior, Rose fell to the ground, mouth wide with silent screams of pain she could not utter. She felt as though her top layer of skin had been removed, pricked with infinitesimal needles, then replaced and pulled in every direction. The pain intensified, then was gone as her body melded to the doll's. 

Rose had collapsed on the floor, gasping for air and devoid of all energy.

Blackbeard nodded, motioning to the zombies, who filed out the door. “Thanks for the help, Madam Hexfury. I'll be sure to tell your brother you said hello." He then turned to the missionary, saying,"If you dare try anything else or question my judgement, you will have to find your own 'way of light,' understood? I promise you I will feed you to the crows.”

Just before he departed he gave one last look at Rose writhing in pain on the ground. He chuckled, “Oh, and don’t think for a moment I won’t be back to inquire about this ‘chest’ of which you speak, sea witch.” He then marched away. The missionary looked sympathetically at Rose, then reluctantly followed.

She was still gasping for air, trying to stand, trying to move, _anything_ , but the pain was too much for her to bear. She was able to twist her head around so that she saw Angelica staring with a forlorn expression, then start toward the door.

"You will…fail,” Rose gasped. "You will fail…because you have far less power…than…than you think you do."

She hoped those words struck fear into her heart, for she wordlessly left afterward. Rose curled up in a ball as the cold of the night-laden swamp enveloped her. She couldn't pursue them, or even comfort poor, frightened Henry, she was so weak.

He crawled to her, whispering through staggered breaths. “R—Rose? Get up. Rose?” She couldn’t even move her neck now, so she just instructed him as best she could, “Go…find your…mother. Go, Henry!”

The brave lad wiped his face with his sleeve and instantly obeyed, running back into the belly of the fortress where Elizabeth was asleep on the other side of where they were. She now only could wait for Henry to bring help, but she felt completely frozen as she shivered alone on the ground. Time seemed to drag on forever as she prayed Elizabeth would come soon.

Suddenly, she felt a warmth around her. She reached around her shoulders and felt a warm coat.

“I am sorry for you and your son,” Angelica whispered. “I…I did not wish it to be this way. I am sorry.” 

Then she was gone.


	7. Her Last Days

The days that followed Angelica and Blackbeard’s ambush were long and fruitless. Rose felt completely devoid of energy as a result of being bound to the voodoo doll. The world seemed to match her cheerless disposition as the days wore on with tempest-like rain.

Rose once again opened her doors to passersby, but there was nary a customer due to the weather. Elizabeth helped Rose clean up the storeroom and restore it to how it once was, but there was a general air of unsettledness; Blackbeard had invaded their safe haven, had threatened Henry, now was after Jack, attacked Rose, and was intent on returning to threaten Will’s heart as well. Perhaps the worst part about all of this was that both of these women, who had always been keen to go out and solve their own problems for themselves, were utterly helpless to stop him. They knew not where his ship had gone, nor where he was going. Rose felt too poor to leave, and Elizabeth _couldn’t_ leave, not with her family in such danger now.

A week or more had passed. Rare was it that the rain let up, but when it did, never more than a hour, some customer would surface, usually a local seeking additional care for a previous condition. Rose helped them graciously, but still did not feel right. Her body was still sore and ached every time she moved.

One day a violent pang hit her directly in the forehead. She screamed in pain and collapsed on the ground, clutching her head with her hands. Elizabeth rushed to her side. "Rose?"

It felt as though someone had set her head on fire. She could hardly believe that she still had hair, but she was completely unscathed on the surface. Then, as quickly as it began, it subsided. Rose looked up at Elizabeth, breathless, mouth agape.

"What is it?" she asked, helping her stand.

Rose stared at her in terror. "That was the doll. Blackbeard is using it."

"You can feel it?"

"It's my blood," Rose gagged. "Oh my lord..."

"What is it?" Elizabeth asked, helping her back into her chair.

Rose was incoherent. "That was...after she left...oh no..."

"What, Rose?"

She swallowed, realizing exactly what the problem was. Angelica had walked out in fury midway through the lecture Tia taught the girls about the black magic of voodoo when they were younger. In order for the doll to be potent, it needed to resemble the person in question, and contain an item directly related to the victim. Blood was the strongest. If blood was pressed into the cloth in the place where the blood was drawn from, the doll could be used at any range. However, and this was where Angelica left, if blood was used, blood from the same wound had to continuously replenish the doll in order for it to retain its power. 

Angelica had made the doll to resemble Jack, and wanted limitless power over him. As he constantly relocated from place to place, she had no way of knowing where he was. Rose was far easier to locate. She made the cut into Rose's cheek, and in turn made the wound on the doll. Jack now had had a scar identical to Rose's on his cheek, a small X, and both he and Rose were controlled by any injury Angelica inflicted on the doll.

What Angelica didn't know was that the blood in the doll needed to be replenished, and it could only be done with Rose’s blood alone. She also didn't know that whena doll with blood loses potency, its source is directly affected, and if it cannot be replenished, the source becomes drained entirely.

This only meant one thing.

"Elizabeth," Rose said, voice quivering, "I'm dying."

* * *

Jack was in much graver danger than they had initially anticipated. Rose knew this because she felt everything Angelica or Blackbeard did with the doll. Elizabeth stayed in the tavern, helping the patrons as best as she could, while Rose laid still on her bed, afraid to move, afraid to walk, afraid to do anything. Seldom times she would attempt to go on living normally, but each time she did, the pain grew worse and worse. Every bone felt brittle, every movement as though she were trying to run against the tide.

Elizabeth had given Rose some remedies she had taught her, and Rose took them just to please her, knowing full well they were useless. Rose was going to die, and she was going to die at the hands of Angelica and Blackbeard.

There were bad days when Rose was bedridden because the attacks continued. These were sporadic and unexpected, and they were awful. It was commonly restricted to once a day, but she never knew when to expect them. Once she felt as though her leg had been pierced by a rusted blade, and another time that her chest was being crushed. The good news was that it wasn't Jack's blood directly. He and Rose only had half of their blood shared via Teague. So everything she felt was minimized by half for him.

The last day she felt anything, it began with weightlessness. The doll must have been thrown, for it felt as though the room had been pulled from underneath her like a rug. Rose started screaming. Elizabeth dropped what she was doing and ran into the room.

Rose's body jerked when the doll made impact with something hard and thrashing. Water. Her screaming ceased and she sat up.

"What happened?" Elizabeth cried.

Rose's eyes started to fill with tears. "They lost the doll. It fell into the ocean." She looked up at her, letting them fall. "It fell into the ocean," she repeated.

This meant only one thing. The doll was lost. Rose cried tears of relief for the fact that Jack would be safe. But she cried for fear as well. There was absolutely no hope in Angelica returning for Rose's blood to recover its power, thus elongating her suffering.

Elizabeth sat beside her on the bed as Rose whispered, "I have nearly perished so many times. Some out of my control, some almost by my own hand. But I suppose I never really believed I would die. Because I have never been this scared."

She hugged her when the tears began to fall harder. There was nothing to do. Nothing to say. They had won, and there was _nothing_ to be done...but live out those final, painful days.

Some time had passed, and Rose could tell the doll was still at sea, for she felt constantly dizzy and cold. So cold. She began to feel as Elizabeth had said she felt after Will's death; knowing her situation had made her numb to it. Elizabeth had taken Henry to stay with the Davis family for awhile so that Elizabeth could attend fully to her friend. Rose, who was slowly losing the ability to walk, was forced to move permanently to one of the cots in the storeroom, and Elizabeth took her nearby hammock to keep an eye on her. One night, Elizabeth briefly stirred from sleep to see Rose staring off into the distance.

She stretched. "Everything alright?"

"Yes," said Rose simply.

It was unlike Rose to be this curt, and Elizabeth knew it. "Rose?" she asked. "What's wrong? Are you feeling alright?"

Rose gave a half smile. "I don't know what 'alright' feels like anymore. I can't sleep, can't eat...it feels like I am constantly in motion."

"Of course you would," said Elizabeth. "That doll is still floating out there somewhere."

They sat quietly for a moment, until Rose quietly said, "I've been thinking...about the Cove." She looked up at Elizabeth. "I need to start making plans for the future. About what will happen after all of this."

"Don't think about that," Elizabeth interrupted, deflecting the subject.

"No, I must," Rose demanded. "There will be nothing here tying you to this place anymore, what with you having to care for Henry on your own... so I cannot ask you to stay—"

"Out of the question," Elizabeth said. "Will's heart is here. This is where Will knows to find me if he ever is in danger. If he returns and I'm not here, well, we might run into the same scenario that occurred with Calypso and Jones. He'll think I've left. Plus his heart will be left unprotected.”

“But Blackbeard said he would return,” Rose said, her eyes filling with tears. “You both need to flee. At least for a few years. You can return once Will comes back for his day ashore in a few years—“

“But what if something goes awry?” Elizabeth protested. She shook her head, “No, I can’t risk it. It would kill Will to not have me and Henry here when he returns, and it would be even worse to have the curse start to transform his crew back into creatures of the sea.” She laid a hand over one of Rose’s. “I am the Pirate King, Rose. I can rally the town to fight off any danger. We’ve done it before, we can do it again!”

Rose was unconvinced and still conflicted, but she knew it was no use fighting against Elizabeth’s will. Soon, their conversation drifted, and Elizabeth fell back asleep. As Rose grew evermore tired, she gently opened up Calypso’s locket once more. Its tune sounded suddenly sounded lonesome and haunting in the room, and Rose felt her eyes grow heavier...and heavier...slowly swaying to the rhythm of the tides...

* * *

A week later, Rose became too weak to stand. She drifted in and out of sleep for the next few days, none of them very memorable, but one time she clearly recalled wakening to Elizabeth sitting at her side, tears in her eyes.

"Eliz...liz..." Rose tried to say, but it was as though her lips were sewn shut.

She hushed her gently, and placed her hand tenderly on her forehead. She took a shallow breath as she said, "Don't try to speak."

Rose knew that her time on Earth was coming to an end. There were so many things Rose _wanted_ to say. _Needed_ to say. She was fading fast...there wasn't much time.

“Henry!” Elizabeth called gently, looking over her shoulder. Elizabeth had brought him back to the fortress, and Rose struggled to crane her neck to see him.

He appeared in view, eyes large and worried. “Rose?” he asked uncertainly.

It took every ounce of her effort and concentration, but she slowly slid her hand towards him and opened her palm. Henry took her hand and grasped it tightly. She wanted to say a proper farewell to the lad, but she couldn’t form the words, as hard as she tried.

“Henry,” Elizabeth murmured to her son, wiping away tears as they fell from her eyes. “Rose is very sick. She hasn’t got much time left with us, so I’ve brought you here to say goodbye.”

“No!” he protested, throwing his arms around Rose’s torso. “Don’t leave, Rose. You can’t go away!”

Elizabeth gently lifted him off of her, and turned his quivering chin towards her. “It’s alright, my sweet. She won’t suffer anymore. And do you know who’s going to make sure that she makes it to the other side?”

“Who?”

Elizabeth smiled. “Your father! He’s going to ensure that she’s safe and comfortable.”

Henry nodded, though he was still crying. He looked to Rose once more and said, wiping his tears away with his sleeve, “Goodbye, Rose. My father will take good care of you, I promise.”

Rose felt her heart break at this, and though she struggled, she managed to utter the word, “Brave.”

Elizabeth then lifted Henry up in her arms and carried him off upstairs. Some time passed, and when Elizabeth returned Henry was no longer with them. She must have put him down to sleep before returning. She sat once again by her side. Now alone, Elizabeth’s tears began to fall anew. "Oh Rose," she whispered. "I can't...I can't lose you too. This is all so terribly unfair."

It wasn't but a little over a few years ago that Rose hated everything about this woman. To her, in every way she was dangerous. For Will, she proved a burden. For Jack, she meant betrayal and death. And for James, she meant heartbreak and manipulation. It wasn't until Rose actually took the time to get to know her that she discovered that every choice she made was either made without any option otherwise, or with the heaviest of hearts. They were both alone. They were family to one another amongst themselves. They had to keep each other alive. And together, they did exactly that.

Rose was barely coherent, but she knew she had to give her limited diction one last try to make sure her final requests were carried out.

"Jack," she managed to whisper. “Teague… Tell.”

Elizabeth nodded. “Of course I’ll tell them what happened.”

It pained Rose that her brother and father would one day return to the Cove to find Rose forever gone. What a horrible way to find out. But she knew it would at least be easier with Elizabeth carrying the news.   
  
Rose finally formed the last two words she would utter: “Stay. King.”

Elizabeth began to sob at this. “Yes, yes of course I will.”

A smile would have to suffice for a response. Rose had no more energy for that moment. Elizabeth's face grew darker and darker...until it was consumed entirely in night.

That was her last memory.


	8. What Rose Wasn't There For

Elizabeth struggled to keep calm as tried to carry of several duties at once. She secured the sail of Rose’s dinghy and was trying to man the rudder that would take them out towards the open sea. She glanced down at the cot she had loaded on deck, which held a comatose but still breathing Rose. She and several pirates had loaded her onboard, though the men gave a quizzical look. Why on earth would a dying woman need to be rowed out into the ocean?

Once Elizabeth had decided they had gone out far enough, she furled up the sail and weighed anchor. She took a deep breath, hand quivering, and unlocked the chest she had taken aboard. Reaching hesitantly inside, she lifted Will’s heart out from the inside and gave it a good squeeze. This had worked before to call Will there, it _had_ to work again. 

She waited. And waited. Nothing was happening. The only disturbance was the wind blowing in dark, billowy clouds from the south. Suddenly, Rose began to convulse.

“Not again!” Elizabeth cried as she closed the chest and rushed to her side, holding her shoulders down. Rose eyes rolled back in her head and her body grew stiff. Her head went limp, but the remainder of her muscles below the neck were tense and tight.

Elizabeth whispered. "Come on, Will!" she shouted.

Suddenly, everything was still. The wind ceased and the boat stopped moving. A sudden chill entered the atmosphere as the offshore waves gently lapped the boat. Even the gulls were silent.

Then, out of the silence, the _Dutchman_ emerged in all its shadowy glory. It was only a few leagues away from the small dinghy where they were anchored, sending waves careening toward them in ripples and dripping water showering overhead. The ship circled the boat, then laid anchor a few meters away. A few sailors onboard lowered a rope ladder for the boat.

"Ahoy!" Elizabeth cried out to them.

"Ahoy!" several voices responded.

“Elizabeth!” Will’s voice cut through the air, shrill with panic. “What’s happened?”

“I’m coming up,” Elizabeth replied, though her eyes couldn’t locate her husband from below. “We need to pull someone onboard! Send a plank and ropes!”

Like clockwork, two men transformed onto her boat, and two lines were cast down. Elizabeth saw to it that Rose could be hoisted securely, then rushed up the ladder. Will was waiting there, and she fell into his embrace as soon as she ascended.

He placed his hands on either side of her face. ”Is it Henry?" he asked fearfully.

"No," Elizabeth reassured him. “Rose."

Bootstrap was standing at Will’s side. “Rose Hexfury? Dear god! She’s dying?”

Elizabeth shook her head. “I don’t know _what’s_ happening,” she cried. “It’s black magic that’s claiming her.” She looked imploringly at Will. “But she won’t die! She’ll lay there and her breathing will go still, as though she’s passed on. But then she’ll suddenly convulse and gasp so loudly that I am certain she is going to choke, and then she’s alive once more… It’s as though something is keeping her from dying.” She looked around at her husband’s ship. “And so I didn’t know what else to do but bring her here.”

Just then, the men lifted Rose’s body over the railing and down to the ground. "Make way," Will cried to his men, who were closing in around her in curiosity.

Will, Elizabeth and Bootstrap knelt close by her. ”Mm,” Will said, examining her. "Must be black magic. That’s the only thing strong enough to kill this woman.” He looked to Elizabeth. “So, you want her to join my crew.”

“I don’t care what you do, as long as you end her suffering.”

Will frowned sullenly. “I’m not sure what I _can_ do. She has to consent to servitude. And she is not lucid enough to make this choice. Beyond that, I’m afraid that there’s not much else to be done.”

“But I don’t know what else _to_ do,” she said. “She’s clearly suffering and I don’t know how to stop it short of killing her myself. And what’s more inhumane? Killing her or letting her suffer?”

Unrest in the crew interrupted their discussion. One man noticed as Rose once again began to convulse. One man, who kept back from the rest, but was fixated upon her. A vision from the past at seeing Will, Elizabeth, and Rose together in a single setting. He didn't want to approach, but merely looked on from afar, afraid that making his presence known would create nothing but anger from the two lucid visions. And as Rose began to choke on her own bile, he quickly withdrew, unable to withstand yet more pain caused by his being there. He quickly cried out, "Look to the girl!" and vanished into the shadows.

This drew attention to her, and ripples of concern flooded the deck.

"Give them space!" Bootstrap yelled. Elizabeth and Will leaned over Rose, Elizabeth holding her shoulders down and Will, placing a hand over her forehead. Her eyes flew open. Her unrest impacted the sea and skies as well, as the began to reel along with her other bodily functions. The skies were somehow profoundly darker and the waves were restless. The world seemed to turn entirely gray.

"Rose? Rose!" Elizabeth cried. But she was unresponsive. She looked back up at Will, but his face clearly showed that he was at a loss of what to do.

Rose then gasped for breath. She began to seize once more, her body failing uncontrollably on the deck.

Will took the newly presented opportunity that Rose was not dead to hold her down by the shoulders and firmly speak directly to her. "Rose? Rose, can you hear me? It's Will. Can you hear me?"

Rose's eyes quickly caught a glance of her old friend as her body continued to convulse with the black magic. The foam in her mouth choked her, and she was only able to gurgle out a slight "Yes."

"I can end your suffering, Rose. Will you serve aboard my ship?"

"Ye—" she choked again.

Will looked at Elizabeth. "That's all I need. She's sworn now. Immortal."

However, her body still continued to writhe.

"I don't understand," Will said pensively. "This never happens..."

Elizabeth laid a hand aside of her face, overcome by emotions. “I don’t know what else to do. God if only Tia Dalma were here. I know she could have fixed this.”

Just as she said this, an idea occurred to both of them at the same time. _Calypso!_

 _“_ The Locker!" Will cried out. "We'll take her there," he said, standing. "If there's anyone who can help, it is Calypso herself! Take Rose to my cabin and wait there,” he said to Elizabeth. He turned to his crew. "ALL HANDS! Prepare to descend!"

Elizabeth and another crewman lifted Rose up and rushed her to the Captain’s quarters. They set her down and the man turned to close and lock the door behind them.

“Wait!” Elizabeth cried. “Is it safe for us to be here? Since Rose and I are living, I mean. Under the waves, we’ll drown!”

The man shook his head with a grin, “The Cap’n had us waterproof the livin’ spaces. We tar the gaps regularly, nows that we ain’t fish people no more. You’s are fine!” It was only a matter of seconds later before the ship quivered and Elizabeth felt it begin to descend into the Locker, a trip she’d never thought she’d make again. She braced herself to keep her balance as the ship’s wood creaked against the pressure of the ocean surrounding the ship. Then, everything went still.

Elizabeth looked to the crewman. “Have we—”

“Nay,” he replied, holding a hand out to motion for her to wait.

All was silent for a moment, and all Elizabeth could hear was Rose’s staggered breathing and the wild pounding of her own pulse in her ears. Then, suddenly, another quiver, then Elizabeth was tossed to the deck as she felt the ship jolt upwards and crash back onto the waves. The crewman chuckled good-naturedly at her unsteadiness and extended a hand towards her to help her to her feet. Together, they then took hold of Rose and lead her back out to the deck, where the ship and her crew were sopping wet from the journey. Elizabeth had nearly forgotten the vast emptiness, stillness, and orange glow of sunlight that made up the Locker, but was relieved to be here again with Will. After placing Rose back down on the deck, she raced to his side.

“Have you…summoned her before?” she asked him.

He shook his head. “I’ve got to try.” He then looked out into the distance. “Calypso,” he called out, “The Captain of the _Flying Dutchman_ wishes to converse with you.”

Nothing happened. The crew stood by, silent in anticipation.

“Calypso!” Will called out, louder. “We need your help. We wouldn’t disturb you if it wasn’t a matter of the utmost importance.”

Still nothing. Will looked to Elizabeth, completely at a loss of what to do.

“Tia Dalma!” Elizabeth tried. “Rose Hexfury is dying!”

Suddenly, the ship gave another shudder as the still waters suddenly erupted in activity, all around the ships exterior railing, a sheet of water shot up into the air, forming a wall that surrounded the vessel on all sides. All aboard cried out in alarm and stepped in unison away from the ocean wall.

Will stepped away from the rest, gazing upon the barrier. “Calypso?”

“Rose Hexfury dies, says you,” Calypso replied suddenly. However, this caused Elizabeth, Will, and his men to spin around and look upon one another in alarm, for when she spoke, her voice was heard in each person’s own voice inside their head. The goddess didn’t _have_ a singular voice; It felt like her words were coming from inside each of them.

“Aye,” Will replied when the commotion died down. “You are the only one who can end her suffering, I believe.”

“Rose Hexfury does not die,” Calypso elusively replied.

Will furrowed his brow at this confusing remark, but said slowly, “Aye…her soul and body appear to be at war. Is there a way you can help her?”

Calypso was silent for a moment, then said, “Would you be willing to accept the charges if I did?”

Will spun around and exchanged a worried glance with his wife. She just looked back at him vacantly, just as uncertain as he was.

“What charges?” he asked Calypso.

“Will you accept?” was all she insistently replied.

He took a moment, then said, “Aye.”

“Good,” Calypso stated. Then, “Would you prefer it if I took a form you were familiar with?”

She didn’t wait for his answer, and began her transformation right then. The wall barrier suddenly fell back to the sea all at once as the resulting sea mist shimmered in the sunlight and formed the translucent image of Tia Dalma, faded, but looking just as she was in human form.

She grinned and sauntered closer to Will, now using her own former voice once more. “Id been too long, William Turner. Ya done well wid da charges placed upon ya before.”

Elizabeth stepped out from the crowd and near her husband. “Calypso,” she said, “Rose suffers greatly. Black magic performed poorly by Angelica Teach is killing her, yet she will not die.”

Calypso craned her neck around the couple, looking to Rose. “Nor will id,” she replied. “Black magic not strong enough for id to be killin’ she.”

Will shook his head. “I don’t understand.”

Calypso leaned her head to one side, gazing deeply into Will’s eyes. She lightly brushed a hand alongside his cheek and led him so that they stood over Rose, away from the others.

“Da charges,” she crooned. “Ya vow ta take dem on ta end her pain, mm?” Will nodded. She grinned and raised an eyebrow mischievously. “Den, id be time.” She suddenly lost her form, collapsing back into mist. All was still for a moment as Will looked around in confusion. Then, all the crew leapt backwards as Will and Rose were entirely enveloped by a localized wall of water around them. Elizabeth tried to charge the wall, but it was no use; whatever Calypso was doing, it was meant for Will’s knowledge and Will’s knowledge only.

Calypso was entirely in control of their fates.


	9. What Rose Was There For

Rose opened her eyes to darkness. Though she had no idea where she was or how she got there, she hoisted herself up to her elbows, finding herself on what appeared to be a murky lake shrouded in fog. She was in a black rowboat without oars, bobbing along on its own into the void. The sky was as black as the lacquer of the boat, and a simple lantern providing some vision golden light levitated behind her.

For once, her mind was completely empty. Thoughtless. Although there was nothing to see, she saw clearer now than ever before. She leaned over the edge of the starboard side of the boat, and instinctively felt the need to place her outstretched arm into the deep, clear water below. Before her index finger made contact with the surface, however, water droplets bounced and danced along the length of her arm.

She smiled. "Hello, Calypso," she murmured.

She let the droplets roll off her skin and back to their shadowy home, then touched her neck where the Calypso’s locket hung. She looked down at it, but in doing so, noticed her appearance. Her hair draped down in waves, sitting gently upon a red dress with a black bodice, one that she recalled in some dream, but never wore in person. Every trinket she had ever worn on voyages long since past hung from a belt around her waist. That’s when Rose realized that she was most certainly dead. This must be the afterlife. She sat back in the boat and looked around her, wondering if Will would be by soon to ferry her to the other side. She wondered who or what she might find there, but wasn’t sorrowful in the slightest. She was oddly accepting of her fate, whatever it might be.

What she was not anticipating, however, was rain. A steady patter of droplets began to pour down her from above, but this was no ordinary rain. After a moment, Rose suddenly heard Calypso speak in her head, though it sounded like Rose’s own voice.

“I made you promise to a task before they freed me, did I not?” she said.

Rose’s heart raced, as she looked around for Calypso, whose presence was there though she took no form. “Aye?” she said uncertainly.   
  
“My locket which you wear. You are endowed with great power.”

Rose’s eyes went wide with realization as she smiled, finally understanding. “When Barbossa freed you,” she said, “And I collapsed on deck… Calypso? What happened to me?”

“No man will ever bind me to human form again,” Calypso replied. “To ensure this, I share my powers with you. They cannot find me if my form it split.” Then, her voice echoed in Rose’s mind as she whispered, “There is a touch of destiny about you, Rose Hexfury.”

Tears came to Rose’s eyes as nearly two decades of Calypso’s promised prophecies started to finally make sense. “I control the seas?” she asked. “I have since that day?”

“Aye,” responded Calypso. “We were never meant to be separated, the _Dutchman_ and the sea. Now you are united.”

The tears fell as Rose grinned. “I’m promised to Will’s crew, then. I have died and will work to help the _Dutchman_?”

Calypso didn’t respond at this, surprisingly. Though Rose was unsettled by this, she continued by asking, “Am I to be free of the black magic then? And how will I harness your powers?”

The rain then grew increasingly powerful, and Rose froze as a strange feeling came over her. She took a large intake of air on a gasp, then grew incredibly still as every nerve in her body quivered. Her eyes flew open and felt icy cold and her fingertips shook violently with a sudden surge of energy. This lasted for a moment or two, then Rose took another gasp of air.

Then, she opened her eyes. She squinted as her eyes adjusted to the blaring sunlight she now found herself surrounded by. Suddenly, forms became clear, and her eyes focused upon Will’s face, leaning over her. Suddenly, she remembered…just a faint memory… Elizabeth had brought her aboard the _Dutchman…_ Will asking her to join his crew…she had said yes.

Slowly, she sat up, and Will helped her the rest of the way. Her eyes felt so heavy and weak and struggled to focus on anything specific, and instead meandered over many things. She wore the red dress from the vision…the same trinkets, the locket still around her neck…the _Dutchman_ ’s deck…but a water shield surrounded the area where they both sat…Calypso.

“What do you know?” she finally asked Will.

Will blinked at her, and his expression looked vague for a moment, until he ultimately replied, “This was planned.”

Rose squinted at him, her head feeling gradually more clear with each passing moment. A smile spread across her face. “This,” she said, reaching to touch the locket around her neck. “This means we are to sail together, yes?”

Will nodded. “Aye.”

“And,” she said, examining her hands, which she now new shared the power to control the seas. “You know of…what I can do?” she asked him.

“I do now,” he replied, grinning. “We are to be allies.”

Rose suddenly grew somber. “But…what of Elizabeth and Henry? I can’t-“

Will laid a hand on her shoulder. “You have done more than enough, Rose,” he said. “I trust they can prosper without you.”

“It is planned,” spoke Calypso again. “Destined,” she replied.

Rose shook her head, “Will,” she said, “Blackbeard is threat. He vowed to return to find the chest.”

“No longer,” Calypso replied. “Another man now commands his ship.”

Rose looked to the shield. “He’s dead?”

No reply came, but Will said again, “This is how it was willed, Rose. There is…much to figure out, but Calypso has willed it for you to be here.”

Rose shook her head. This was all so convoluted, but it must be so; Calypso had made Rose vow before she was freed to take on her duties, endowed part of her sprit into Rose so that no man could even bind Calypso’s being into a human host again, and now Jones and Calypso could work in tandem, now in the form of Will and Rose, to traverse the world in search of souls to ferry to the afterlife.

“I’m going to need help in all of this,” Rose finally said to Will. “I haven’t sailed in years, and I now have powers I never knew I had.”

He embraced her, saying quietly, “We’ll keep you safe here, I promise.”

Looking up, Rose spoke aloud a “thank you,” to Calypso. The water shield then collapsed, falling to the deck and pouring off the side of the ship through the railing. Rose and Will found themselves back in the Locker, surrounded by the _Dutchman_ crew and Elizabeth, who raced towards them.

Rose stood and embraced her, though they both were in tears. “I tried so hard to help you,” Elizabeth said, pulling away. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t do more!”

“No,” Rose insisted. “I…I’m here now. This was as it should be.”

Elizabeth looked between Rose and her husband. “Rose will sail with you?”

Will nodded, rising to his feet. He then turned to his men and announced, “Gentlemen, welcome aboard Rose Hexfury, the next member of our crew.”

Commotion broke out among them, and suddenly Rose was surrounded by unfamiliar faces as they stepped forward to greet her, shaking her hand, giving her a clap on the back, and the like. She and Elizabeth exchanged a bewildered look, but laughed as Rose was suddenly overtaken by curious questions and various greetings by her new cohorts. She gave in fully to the chaos, trying desperately hard to take in all of the new information she was presented with while still struggling to grasp her new life. …her new life in _death._ More and more faces passed by her, shouting out welcomes, embracing her warmly, laughing with her. She briefly reunited with Bootstrap, but was soon interrupted by another sailor who wanted to introduce himself.

Bootstrap let it happen, shouldering his way out of the crowd and back towards where Will still stood, his expression oddly forlorn and looking away from the celebration. Bootstrap followed his gaze and discovered that he was looking at one of the crew who stood in a distant corner of the ship, looking at the elated activity but keeping purposefully separate from it.

Bootstrap continued towards Will, breaking his gaze off the man. “Well,” he said to his son, “I’ve seen a lot in my time aboard this ship, but this has to be the oddest yet.” Will snorted at the understatement. Bootstrap continued, “You’ve got some explaining to do.”

Will looked completely at a loss. “Where do I even begin? I’ve never encountered anything like this before.”

“Why wasn’t Rose freed instantly upon you promising her to the crew?” Bootstrap said. “That never happens. Was it because she was a woman? We’ve never had a woman aboard.”

Will shook his head. “It’s because she’s been a _god_ for years and never knew it.”

Bootstrap still looked confused. “And what are these, ‘charges,’ Calypso gave you?” His eyes went wide with fear as he asked, “She didn’t give you more years of servitude, did she?”

“No,” Will quickly answered. “There’s no penalty for taking her aboard. Only secrets.”

“Secrets?”

“I can’t get into it here, but yes. This is more complicated than you know, and Calypso has charged me with keeping it as silent as possible.” He gave Bootstrap a sidelong glance. “I’m going to need your help, though.”

“Of course,” his father agreed. “Does Rose know these secrets?”

“No,” Will said. “And Calypso wants to keep it that way. Rose cannot know ‘until the time is right,’ whatever that means.” He gave one more unsettled glance to the outsider, still hovering on his own away from Rose’s welcoming party. “There’s something else,” he said, lowering his voice. “And I want to take care of it before it has a chance to start.”

“What is it?” asked Bootstrap, leaning in.

“Calypso told me that a man aboard will bring Rose harm.”

Bootstrap narrowed his eyes, motioning with his head towards the outsider. “You think it’s _him_?”

“Who else?” Will asked. “He has motive.”

“True,” Bootstrap replied. “Do you reckon you should send him back to the Locker?”

“No,” Will replied immediately. “That’s cruel. You saw what state he was in. He seems docile enough to take orders if there are a few threats attached. It’s a small ship…they’ll inevitably meet, but…I think we can end this quietly.”

“So,” Bootstrap said, “After we return Elizabeth to Shipwreck, should I send him in?”

“Aye,” Will replied, looking back towards Rose. “We’ll end this before it can begin.”


	10. Starting Over

The _Dutchman_ soon after returned back to Shipwreck’s shores. Rose and Elizabeth exited Will’s sealed quarters, and chatted idly on deck. It wasn’t until Rose saw Shipwreck in the distance that Rose finally understood how Will felt; She was never going to return to her life on Shipwreck. Her world was entirely different now. She wouldn’t see and work alongside Elizabeth every day, nor would she likely ever again. So, she was desperate to keep talking, knowing full well that their time was drawing to a close.

Will stayed behind for a time, and when he finally did emerge, he had a piece of parchment in his hand. He politely waited until a break in the women’s conversation to hand the parchment to Elizabeth.

“What’s this?” she asked.

“I know he can’t read yet,” Will said, “But give it to Henry when you feel the time is right. It explains…” His voice trailed off, and he gulped back emotion as he tried again, “It explains everything I need to tell him. I hope it will tell him everything he needs to hear, at least for five more years.”

Elizabeth held the letter to her chest and smiled sadly. “Will, he already loves you more than you could possibly imagine. I don’t know why you torment yourself in fearing that he’ll ever resent you.”

Rose chuckled. “I can attest to that,” she added. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he one day sets out to find a way to free you himself.” She laid a finger on her chin pensively. “Much like…someone _else_ I know…” she said with a wry grin, clearly alluding to Will’s own attempts to free Bootstrap years ago.

“That day might come sooner rather than later, knowing Henry,” Elizabeth snorted.

Will smiled a bittersweet smile. “No, tell him to stay put,” he said quietly. “I’ll be with him soon enough.” He then wrapped Elizabeth in his embrace, as they once again said a painful goodbye. Elizabeth was then moved to move down the rigging of the ship back into the dinghy, which had remained anchored in the Shipwreck harbor where they had left it. She looked up at Rose before descending, face twisted in pain. “Goodbye, Rose,” she murmured. “I leave in the capable care of my husband.”

Rose’s own heart felt like it was breaking. “I am so sorry, Elizabeth.”

“What on Earth for?”

Rose shook her head. “I promised that you wouldn’t be alone while you waited for Will. I promised Will I would keep you and Henry safe. I’m afraid I can’t deliver on either.”

“No, Rose,” Elizabeth insisted. “First, what happened to you was inescapable. Second, I’m _not_ alone. You owe me nothing. You never did.”

Will stood at Rose’s side, leaned over the rail and kissed Elizabeth one final time, their hands lingering to grab hold of one another for as long as they could as Elizabeth descended until finally only their fingertips were touching. Then, she was gone.

Rose felt the _Dutchman_ begin to move, but still she looked to Elizabeth. “You make sure that boy stays sweet, will you?” she called out.   
  
“Of course!” Elizabeth replied.

“And you’ll tell my father about what became of me?” she cried again. “And Jack, if you see him?”

“I shall!” she cried back.

 _Good,_ Rose thought. Though it pained her that Teague and Jack would find out that way, it was the only option. “Take care, Elizabeth!” she called one final time.

Elizabeth shouted something back, but they had moved far enough apart that neither she nor Will could make it out.

After a time, Will turned his gaze on Rose. “Are you ready?”

She shook her head. “I’m not sure,” she said distantly. “This all happened so fast; One moment I’m alive, the next I’m dying, the next I’m…Calypso? Or…and extension of Calypso? And I’m…not going back to Shipwreck. Perhaps ever.” The words sounded so much scarier once she spoke them aloud.

Will just nodded in understanding. “Believe me,” he said softly, “I feel what you’re feeling every day. I have for over five years now, and I will for an eternity.” He took a deep breath, “But, that actually wasn’t what I meant. I mean, are you ready to go below?”

Rose’s eyes went wide in excitement. She had seen the _Flying Dutchman_ disappear and reappear from the ocean depths when traveling between Earth and the Locker, but never had she imagined what it was like to actually make the trip. She nodded happily.

“PREPARE TO GO BELOW, MEN!” Will bellowed to his crew, prompting a hearty, “Aye, aye!” from his men. He then turned to Rose. “As soon as you hear me say that, stop whatever you’re doing and find the nearest sturdy place. Plant your feet like so,” he said, sinking his weight back into his heels. Rose followed, grabbing on with both hands to the railing to her righthand side.

“READY? DOWN!” cried Will. Suddenly, the ship quivered and began to sink smoothly down into the waves. Rose watched as the waves rose quicker and quicker as they sank beneath the tide. She then instinctively took a deep breath as the ocean spilled over onto the deck and above her head, though after a moment, she quickly realized that this was unnecessary—she was undead. There was no need to fear running out of air when air was no longer necessary to live. Rose’s eyes were wide open, watching the sea life around her as the ship sank lower and lower, passing fish, reefs, and remnants of the many shipwrecks that had given the island its name. Rose looked around at the other men, who were calmly positioned, completely used to this journey. She then glanced behind her at Will, who only smiled at her reassuringly as if to say, “Just a moment more.”

Then, after a moment, the ship shuddered once more, and the green flash surrounded them all. They ship was then jettisoned upwards, exploding back into the Locker at full force, bobbing precariously from the impact. Rose and the crew were soaking wet, which was something she was definitely going to have to get used to, but the journey left all the others completely unfazed. In fact, Will was already off on business.

“Men, report,” he ordered. All the men on deck instantly gathered around him, as did Rose. “Where were we last?”

“By my charts,” said a thin, bearded man who had introduced himself to Rose as Coats, “We left off just south of Swann Cove.”

“Good,” Will said. “Let’s make our way back. Keep charting. Who’s on the next scouting party?”

A few men raised their hands, to which Bootstrap and Will exchanged a confused glance.

“Come now, gents,” Bootstrap said. “I know more than that are coming with me. Ye weren’t _that_ drunk when I gave the command, were ya?”

A few more straggling hands went up, and Bootstrap nodded. “That’s better,” he said. He then turned to Will. “I’ll lead them ashore, then?”

“Aye, very good,” he replied. “Back to your stations, prepare to make sail!” The men then scurried, leaving Rose wondering what to do next. Will turned to her immediately after, however, and asked, “Care to have a tour?”

“Gladly!” she replied, following him. “Will?” she asked.

“Mm?”

“‘Swann Cove?’”

He smiled. “I’ll admit I’m not very clever at naming things.”

“I don’t understand,” she said. “Naming what now?”

Will turned, motioning out across the open sea, where an innumerable amount of islands and land masses peppered the horizon. “All of this,” he explained, “Are islands in the Locker where Jones’s seemingly endless supply of enemies have been imprisoned after their deaths. Coats was a cartographer in his living days. He’s helping me map it. None of us still quite comprehend the bounds of the Locker, but we’re trying. So far we’ve been able to chart over a hundred islands. We come across a new one, my father will lead a search party ashore, and will discover who, if anyone, Jones imprisoned there. He’ll assess if he be worthy of the punishment, and if he finds him reformed or innocent, bring him back here to the ship, where I will either free him or offer him servitude.”

Rose shook her head in disbelief. “And how many men have you encountered on this islands so far?”

Will looked at her, face somber. “Over three hundred.”

“My god,” she exclaimed. “Jones certainly had enemies, didn’t he?”

“Too many,” Will said. “Most of them innocent. I’m trying my utmost to undo the damage he’s caused, but some are have been alone for far too long and are too far gone in the mind to do much else. I free their souls and hope they find their way again.”

Will then took her below deck, showing her the vessel’s immense cargo hold and brig first, which was chocked full of crates and barrels. “Rum and cargo,” Will explained, stating that every time they arrived on earth to the scene of a recent shipwreck to ferry the souls onward, they would loot the vessel’s goods and keep them below deck. Countless goods and valuables were down here, and Will gave Rose permission to peruse them at her leisure. Then he took her to the gun decks and crew’s quarters. These decks were now all sealed with tar to prevent water damage in between voyages to and from Earth and were all protected by heavy iron doors. The _Dutchman_ was the largest ship Rose had ever been on, and knew it was going to take awhile to get accustomed to her new home. She was then brought into the corridor where Will’s quarters were and where two more doors were located, one on either side of the entry way. These were officer’s rooms, though, Will explained, his only officer was his father, Bootstrap. The other room, positioned on the starboard side of the vessel, was empty and had been cleared out under express orders from Will as soon as Rose was aboard.

“No, I couldn’t,” Rose protested. “Really, I don’t deserve preferential treatment-“

“Please, I insist,” Will said simply. “I don’t want you alone below deck with those rogues. You’re much _safer_ here.” Rose was confused; If she was dead, what harm could possibly come to her? And the way he emphasized the word, “safer…”

She didn’t have time to ponder this too much, though, for Will opened the door to her new cabin, which was more spacious than Rose anticipated, and then gave her free reign to make it her own from the items in the cargo hold. Her eyes lit up at this. “Aye, _Captain Turner,_ ” she said with a grin.

* * *

Rose completed her quarters to her liking within a few days. She had both a hammock and a crate bed with cushions, depending upon if poor weather plagued the ship. Tapestries and silks that were clearly collected from many different countries around the world adorned her walls, and she even found a few bottles and knick knacks to fasten to her ceiling with rope and nails. Inside, it felt like home, but as soon as she stepped foot outside, Rose was reminded of just how different her world was. 

It wasn’t that the men were unkind. In fact, many would stop to idly chat with her when she would appear on deck during the daytime. But these conversations were void of real meaning, and Rose found herself feeling restless. She wanted to contribute, so one day she approached Will.

“Captain,” she asked earnestly. “What may I do?”

Will narrowed his eyes. “For what?” he asked.

“For the _Dutchman,_ ” she replied. “I wish to help on deck. Or perhaps even go ashore with Bootstrap’s scouting party.”

He shook his head. “No, that’s quite alright,” he said. “My father’s got more than enough hands for the job.”

Rose tensed her jaw. “Alright, then. What about on deck?”

“No, I think we’re covered.”

She was incredulous. “But, Will—I mean, Captain, you’ve sailed with me before. You know what I can do! And if Calypso says that I am as powerful as I say I am…”

Will carried a pained expression on his face, yet smiled warmly, putting a hand on her back. “Rose, you’ve been working so hard for so long, why don’t you rest for awhile? I will be sure to let you know if we can use your help. In the meantime, however, continue to get your feel of the ship. It takes awhile to get used to these things.”

Rose couldn’t comprehend Will’s resistance to her helping. She didn’t know about Calypso’s dark prophecy—she had told Will not to alert her of the danger she was in. All Rose knew was that so far, she was useless aboard, and Will was unwilling to give her any task of value.

So for another three days, she waited. The homesickness grew and grew, until finally it got overwhelming. She stood on the quarter deck, looking over the water and staring at her hands. Calypso had said that she could control the seas…but how? She extended her hand over the water below, but felt nothing. Frustrated, she merely closed her eyes and tried to breathe away the anxiety that was building up inside of her.

She felt a presence appear beside her, and when she opened her eyes, she saw that it was Will. He had clearly noticed her unhappiness, and was coming to check in with her.

“Trying out the powers, I see?” he asked.

She sighed. "I still have much to learn about them, apparently,” she muttered.

"That will all come in time," Will said. "You have many years to figure it out.” Then, after a time of silence, he added quietly, “I’m here to redeem a conversation that was promised to me. There’s ‘reason to smile again,’ methinks.”

Rose tried her best to attempt a congenial appearance, saying forcibly, “I suppose.”

They were silent for a moment or two, and then he lowered his voice and said, “Still getting used to it all?”

Rose choked back tears that were brimming up in her eyes. Breathing heavily to try to keep composed, she said, “It’s so… unbearably hard… to… let go…” When she couldn’t stand it any longer, she let the tears she had been holding back fall. She felt so helpless and so small in that moment, and couldn’t bring herself to look at Will, though she knew he was staring at her pensively.

He took a deep breath. “I know. You have family that you are close to. You feel...utterly powerless to protect them because you're a world away most of the time. Believe me, I understand.” She knew he was right. And perhaps he knew this better than anyone. He had to suffer missing his son growing up. He took a deep breath and smiled again.

“And that,” he continued, “Brings me to why I’m here.”

Rose turned to him, intrigued.

His eyes lit up. “There’s reason to smile again,” he repeated.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“Rose, do you know how I know when someone’s in danger at sea?” She shook her head. “It’s this sense that comes over me,” he continued. “It’s part of being the Captain of this ship. I know who and where and just how to get there.” He gave her a sidelong glance. “I’m getting one of those feelings now. There’s a fellow and his friend that I sense are in trouble out on the open sea. I’m indebted to him.” He then gave a wry grin. “Care to go on your first mission?”

Rose was eager for change, _any_ change, so she instantly agreed. Before she quite knew what was happening, the ship left the Locker and exploded back onto Earth. Instantly from the geography, Rose could tell they were in the Caribbean, though the by the looks of it, they appeared to be further North than she was typically used to.

“Man overboard!” one of the crew cried out from the crow’s nest.

The crew rushed to the port side of the ship, looking down towards two individuals on a makeshift raft waving for their lives. Before long, Will was handed Rose a telescope for a better view. She took it, then about fell over when she saw who was floating on the open sea.

Her eyes instantly filled with tears as she looked to her captain. “Will!” she exclaimed.

He beamed. “Reason to smile again?” he asked.

“Most assuredly!”

The men sailed close by the raft and threw a line down the inhabitants, who struggled aboard carrying a large bag of clinking glass bottles. One man Rose recognized came up first, but Rose was more intrigued by the second. As soon as he was safely aboard, Rose ran and threw her arms around her brother.


	11. Homesickness

“JACK!” she cried.

“AH AH AH! Careful!” Jack cried, pulling away from her. “Glad to see you too, lass, but watch the skin!”

Rose then took a closer look at her brother and recoiled. “Good lord!” she exclaimed. “What on earth happened?”

Jack’s face and neck were beet red, and Gibbs fared not too much better. “Sunburn,” Gibbs reported. “We’ve been on that blasted raft for days now.” He turned to Will, shaking his hand merrily. “Thank goodness ye’ve come along, Cap’n Turner! We’d’ve been lost without ye!”

Will gave a smug nod. “Aye, a few more hours, and you both would have succumbed to the heat, I’m afraid.”

“I don’t doubt it, sir,” Gibbs agreed.

Will and Jack then made eye contact. The last time they had seen each other, Jack had helped Will’s dying body stab Jones’s heart to save his life. They hadn’t spoken since.

Jack’s eyes smiled, though his burnt face remained stoic. “What, no tentacles yet, Turner?”

Will chuckled. “No, not yet, Jack.”

“Disappointing,” he replied.

“And what about _you_?” Will asked sardonically. “What happened to the sea turtles, mate?”

Jack shrugged. “Ran out of back hair.”

The outsider who had been ever watching from afar and had been told by Will and Bootstrap to keep away from Rose appeared on deck at that moment. His blood ran cold when he saw Jack. With Rose standing by him…it was so obvious that they were related. Staying here and being noticed would only cause more trouble, he feared, so he fled back below deck to wait until he and Gibbs had gone.

“There is a debt to be settled, Jack,” Will said ominously.

Jack looked alarmed. The last time the Captain of the _Flying Dutchman_ said that to him, he died soon after. “Remind me?” he asked.

“My debt,” Will replied, causing Jack to breathe a sigh of relief. “I owe you my immortality. As you…appear to be without a ship,” he commented, which made Jack give a pained wince, “I can offer you a lift. Will Tortuga do?”

Jack gratefully put his hands together in front of his chest and gave a slight bow in gratitude. Will turned away to give to orders to make sail, so Jack then hoisted the bag of bottles over his shoulder and turned to Rose, saying “I need to talk to you.”

Rose obliged, leading him to her room, but was confused. Jack seemed not to question why on earth Rose was here in the first place. Did he already know?

Once they were inside and the door was closed, Jack placed the bag down and said, “Glad you’re here! I’ve got a little matter I’m hoping you can help with.”

“Jack-“ Rose began, trying to tell him what had surpassed.

“After Turner drops us at Tortuga, I’m think you and meself head back to Shipwreck. Dad told me about your shop thing, by the by. Sounds grand.”

“Jack-“

“I just had a nasty run in with Blackbeard, you see-“

“Jack, I-“

“Oh, and you’re good friend Angelica too, believe it or not.”

“Jack, I’m trying to-“

Suddenly, Jack looked around her room. “Where _are_ we?” he asked.

“JACK!” she exclaimed, laying her hands on his shoulders. She now had his full attention. “We’re in my quarters.” He looked bewildered, so she continued, “I can’t go with you to Tortuga, nor Shipwreck. Do…do you understand what I’m telling you?”

Jack’s expression then fell as he realized what she was saying. “Wait are you…you’re not?”

“I died, _yes,_ ” she said. “Apparently, however, I also control the seas? Calypso separated her form and endowed some of her powers to me so that she could never be bound to human form again. I…don’t quite know _how_ yet, but apparently I’ve had the power for years.” She smiled weakly. “I’m meant to be here, it would appear.”

Jack sank so that he was sitting on her bed. She sat down by him. “Unbelievable,” he muttered. “Even my little sister gets immortality before I do.”

She chuckled. “I take it that the Fountain of Youth didn’t go as planned, did it?”

Jack grimaced. “No,” he said begrudgingly. “I…may or may not have given the chalice to Angelica.”

“WHAT?” Rose cried, causing him to jump. “Jack!”

“WHAT?” Jack cried, equally surprised. “She was…well. Blackbeard was there, and she was over there, and only one of them could be saved, so I picked, and…here we are!” He looked up at her, and then all of a sudden noticed the cross scar on her right cheek that was identical to his own, the incision that connected them through the voodoo doll. “Wait, what’s that?” he asked, pointing to the mark.

“Exactly!” Rose cried. “Jack, it’s because of _them_ that I died! Angelica had no idea what she was doing and the black magic from the doll killed me. They used my blood to get to you! And now you’re telling me that you had _both_ of them dying, and chose to save _Angelica?_ Who KILLED me!”

“I didn't know _that!_ ” Jack protested. “…I’m not sure she did either!”

She glared at him. “Oh, so that makes it alright?” Then, she realized exactly what was going on. She punched him in the arm, to which he exclaimed, “OW! What did I _just_ say about ‘easy on the skin?!’”

“You fancy her, don’t you?” she cried. “ _That’s_ why you saved her?”

Jack hesitated, then sighed. “Yes, fine, alright.”

“So where is she now?” Rose asked incredulously.

“Marooned on an island far away,” Jack replied.

Rose furrowed her brow. “How…romantic?”

Jack shrugged. “Eh. It would have never worked out between us. She wanted to kill me too much.”

Rose crossed her arms, skeptical. “I thought you were all about, ‘take what you can, give nothing back!’”

Jack narrowed his eyes. “I am!” he protested.

“So why the soft-heartedness, hmm?” she teased. “Will, Angelica… Admit it, Jack. You’re a good person.”

He sneered. “No. I’m a wretch. A knave.”

She nudged his arm. “Nooo, you’re a _good_ person!”

He finally shrugged, conceding. “Fine, I’m…halfway decent.”

“I must admit,” she sighed, “I think Angelica actually is too, deep down. She seemed reluctant to threaten me. I think Blackbeard really got into her head.”

“Aye, most assuredly,” Jack replied. “Which reminds me…” he kneeled down next to the huge bag he had loaded into her room, procuring one of the bottles in particular and hoisting it triumphantly into the air.

Rose raised an eyebrow. “It’s a…ship. In a bottle.”

Jack looked offended. “Not just _a_ ship! _THE_ ship!” he brought it close to Rose so that she could clearly see that indeed, the ship inside was none other than a miniature _Black Pearl._

“My word,” Rose exclaimed. “So _that’s_ who took the _Pearl;_ Blackbeard!”

“I’ve got a whole fleet of them in that bag,” Jack replied. “That’s why I am in need of your help.”

Rose shook her head. “I am away from all of my belongings now,” she said sadly. “And also my herbs, or else I would have given you aloe for your burns by now.” She gave him a small smile and handed the bottle back to him. “I will continue my search, though. I promise you that.”

Jack nodded, then gave her a sidelong glance. “So, you’re here now for what, the next hundred years?”

She shrugged. “I think so.”

He considered this, then nodded his head. “I think I can make that work,” he replied. He stood, and she followed him. Then, from around his belt, he unfastened one of their two matching pendants which had kept them connected for years.

“No,” Rose protested. “I thought I told you to keep them both for luck!”

“I did, and they were!” he insisted, handing her one. “You need your own luck now. …especially sailing under the command of the eunuch.”

Rose rolled her eyes and laughed, tying the pendent to her own belt, then embracing her brother gently, as to “go easy on the skin.”

Within an hour, they had arrived in Tortuga, and Rose bid Jack and Gibbs farewell, then the ship returned to the Locker. It was all too brief a time to spend with her brother, but she was grateful for even a moment. Even a moment meant less homesickness.

Once they had returned, Rose pushed back her sopping wet hair and caught Will’s eye from across the deck.

He grinned at her with a knowing look, as if to say, _Reason to smile again?_

She nodded in response. _A reason to smile again._


	12. A New Pair of Eyes

Though she now felt far more comfortable on the _Dutchman,_ Rose was still denied any duties by Will, who insisted that she remain “resting,” despite two weeks having passed. She had done enough resting for her entire life, she was convinced. While the rest of her crew were often very hard at work, she was permitted to do nothing but try and harness her powers, which failed every time and make her feel completely idiotic.

Soon, the sun would set, and because of instinct, Rose would disappear to her room before the night blindness took hold. While there, she would blankly stare at the wall, immersed in her own boredom until she eventually fell asleep before beginning another wearisome, monotonous day of more nothingness. This night, however, she decided to stay up late. Having nowhere else to put her energy, Rose grabbed some parchment and and a ink quill she had found and began to write all of the tasks she knew how to do in order of how well she could perform them. Chief among them was manning the wheel, as well as sail repairs, knots, loading the guns, and healing. She didn’t do it for any other purpose but to thoroughly convince _herself_ that she had talent and ability. She worked by the light of a candle, and was unaware that she was drafting this document long into the morning.

When she couldn’t think of any more actions, she finally allowed herself to sleep. She woke up in what she presumed was the morning, got dressed, then walked outside for some fresh air. When she opened the door to the main deck, however, Rose nearly fell over in surprise.

Her first thought was, _What happened to the sun?_ She could see everything before her, but it appeared to all be enshrouded in a dark blanket. Millions of bright spots dotted the sky above her, and lanterns on deck made out the figures and forms of the men gambling, drinking, conversing, or simply relaxing after a hard day’s work.

Suddenly, Rose realized…what she was experiencing was _night!_ Her poor eyesight had always rendered her vision null in darkness. But how could she see now? That was when she remembered. When the rain in the vision she had of Calypso that cleared her of the black magic, Rose felt her eyes grow incredibly cold. Calypso must have used her powers to reverse her eyesight as well.

Rose was in tears as she took in everything around her for the first time. This was what night looked like. She no longer had to fear the darkness. There was nothing holding her back now.

Now, Rose was more predisposed to spending more time on deck, especially at night. Rose would join the men, watching from afar or idly listening in on a tale someone told, just so that her presence was, well...present. One of these nights, Rose was brave enough to join in the conversation. A man known to the men as Gunner was in the midst of a tall tale about zombies.

“There’s not but a thin layer o’ flesh on ‘em," he told them, "And claws like daggers. Their eyes shine blood red when they smell human flesh, and their fangs hang low o'er their chin when they strike. The necks! Those be their favorite bits of flesh!"

Another man known as Humphrey rubbed his jugular protectively and gulped. Rose snorted. Were some of them actually buying this?

One wasn't. He was a brutish man by the name of Hans. “Oh to the depths with your fangs nonsense!” Hans cried.

This was infuriating to Gunner. "You say I lie?"

"Aye, that I do!"

"Aye, but answer me this! You seen 'em in the flesh?"

"No," Hans retorted. "Because they don't exist."

"I saw 'em! With these very eyes!"

Rose interjected here. "You both are wrong." Eight pairs of eyes who were both participating and listening in to this conversation spun around and stared at her. "You both are mistaken," she repeated, leaning against the railing. "Zombies _are_ real," she said to Hans. She then turned to the rest. "And they are not as Gunner described. They don’t have teeth that are any different than us. Their eyes never turn blood red, but rather are fogged over, like a blind man’s. Oh yes, and they can see the truth and the future.”

Gunner was incredulous. "And how do you know this?"

She smiled. “I’ve been threatened by a few in my time. In fact, the both of them had once been a men like any of you."

Rose told her story in great detail, much to their amazement and wonder. And they took it for truth, even Gunner.

"Well," he finally confessed. "It was dark that night I saw 'em."

The following night Rose told the story of how she was taught by Calypso. These men were particularly interested in that tale because Calypso was the reason the _Dutchman_ existed in the first place. Her audience grew from eight men, to twelve. The night after, she recounted an interesting misunderstanding in her youth in the bayou regarding an alligator hunter and a drunken pirate who had wandered off the trail. Her audience increased by four more. This continued until it became tradition—every evening, most of the crew gathered around to hear what she had to say. Some didn't even watch, they just quietly sat with their eyes closed, or their hands carving wood or tying knots.

Her storytelling blazed the trail for a new tradition onboard where the men would openly celebrate each night. One day, Will and the crew had saved the soul of a young man who had drowned in a boating accident named Francois, who was later revealed to be quite the musician upon discovering a partially destroyed violin in the cargo hold. The skilled man had repaired the instrument so that it was playable, and entertained the crew each night with different tunes that led to dancing, singing, and general rejoicing.

One night, Rose stood up on deck by the helm, overlooking the joyous scene below. Her face broke into a wide grin when she saw that the men seemed to have planned impromptu choreography where they would point to her whenever the phrase, “my bonny lass” appeared in a jaunty song Francois played. When the song had ended, she clapped enthusiastically for her personalized performance, but stopped as she saw Will approach.

“Look at this,” he said in awe. “Rose, you should have seen this ship years ago. _Weeks_ ago, even. The men were miserable, just trying to trudge through each day of their sentence.”

She smiled, overlooking the merriment with him.

“Look at them now,” he said. “ _You_ did this!”

Rose swallowed the disappointment that welled up inside her upon hearing this from Will. “I can do much more for this ship than bring entertainment,” she said pointedly. “I have powers. True I can’t control them yet, but—“

“I know, Rose,” Will interrupted, “But please don’t push yourself too hard. Things will all occur when they are ready to occur. For the time being, you aren’t expected to do any more than what you are doing.”

She nodded with a smile, though her frustration persisted. She had no way of knowing that Will’s only intentions were to keep her safe. As long as Rose’s exposure to danger was kept to a minimum, Calypso’s dark prophecy could be avoided. If only Rose knew his reasons, then her vexations would not have troubled her so much.

 _Fine,_ thought Rose. _He thinks my only use is to keep his men happy. So be it._ She quickly swept down the stairs and joined in the dancing. All night she danced, on her own, in a group, but mostly with a partner. One by one the men would ask her to dance and she perhaps too enthusiastically accepted each proposal.

There was one proposal that Rose shouldn’t have accepted and she quickly learned her lesson. The man’s name was Defoe, and once he first started dancing with her, he began to yank her away from her subsequent partners mid-dance. Rose could smell the alcohol in his breath, but his grip on her was too firm, and she had no choice but to dance off with him again.

This trend repeated itself for two more nights, and began to cause visible unrest between the other men. Finally, Rose had had enough. She had been dancing all night, and wanted some time to herself.

Defoe, unable to take a hint, followed her, growling, “Dance wiv’ me, lass!”

She smiled politely, trying to mask her disdain for him. “I’m sorry, but I am awfully tired! I’m going to have to rest during this next song.”

“What’s that?” he spat, growing suddenly dark and brooding. “Did I just hear ye say, ‘no?’”

Rose nodded, heart racing. “No,” she repeated. “I’m sorry.”

He began to laugh, growing closer to her. “Who do ye think you are?”

Suddenly, Coats came to her aid. “You heard what she said!” he cried. “Let the girl go!”

Rose yelped when Defoe grabbed her by the shoulders and yanked her toward him forcefully. “When I say somethin’,” he whispered hoarsely, “You _do_ it!”

“That is quite enough!” roared Bootstrap, who appeared seemingly out of nowhere, completely silencing all on deck. “Defoe! You are to go below deck immediately, lest you be retarring the deck all morning tomorrow!”

Defoe pushed Rose away from him, grumbling as he begrudgingly obeyed. Rose caught her breath and shook off the encounter quickly, but was inwardly terrified. Never before had she been handled by a man that way, never mind a man with such a low philosophy regarding women. The circumstance was a reminder that while she had brought joy once again to the _Dutchman_ ’s deck, she was living amongst pirates, some of the most infamous knaves sailing the open ocean. She could not allow herself to be caught off guard by any of these men, as all of them could pose a significant threat.

After Defoe's abrupt exit, there fell an awkward silence amongst the men. Bootstrap wordlessly disappeared below deck, and several others followed. Others still quietly returned to their previous activities, and others joined the night shift. After that tense moment, it was certain that festivities were to be no more.

François began to play a soft ballad, mostly to himself. The tune was beautiful and haunting, and reminded Rose of Tia's locket. She instinctively reached for where the locket hung around her neck and opened its face, letting the simple tune ring out as she gazed out towards the open ocean. Her line of vision changed, however, when she noticed someone standing a few paces off that she hadn’t seen before. Closing the locket, she stood and approached the figure.

“I don’t believe we’ve met,” she said merrily, extending a hand.

The man was stirred out of his own thoughts by her voice and was greatly taken aback, immediately moving away from her and averting his eyes.

“Oh dear,” exclaimed Rose. “I didn’t mean to startle you! I simply found it curious that I’ve been aboard for so long without having met all the men aboard!”

The man opened his mouth as if to speak, but was very clearly uncomfortable. He was tall, with dark, long hair tied back, bearded and scruffy but with an air of confidence and stature. And his green eyes… There was something Rose recognized in him, but it felt more abstract than literal.

“Please,” Rose said gently. “I’m a friend, I promise!”

Though still averting his gaze, the man stood straighter and spoke softly. “A pleasure, Miss Hexfury,” he finally said, but Rose’s face fell upon hearing his voice say her name. His appearance might have been completely different from whence she first met him, but the distinctive, deep voice was unmistakable. Her heart stopped and her blood boiled once she realized who he was, and remembered her promise from all those years ago when she was betrayed in a cell on Port Royal by this very man.

Rage burned in her eyes as Rose looked upon the face of James Norrington.


	13. The Promise of Redemption

Norrington’s eyes grew wide when he saw that Rose had recognized him.

“You!” she spat. She drew her sword and yelled out, “Liar!”

Francois’s music on deck had come crashing to a halt, but she cared not who saw this spectacle. She had just been granted a chance to fulfill her revenge, and nothing was going to stand in her way this time. James let out a yelp as he moved to parry once more. "I'm sorry," he said, through the cross made by their swords.

"For what? Lying? Repeatedly?" She swung again. This time, he anticipated her movement and put all of his weight into his parry, sending her toppling backward.

"I don't want to hurt you," he said, offering a hand to help her stand up.

Now on the ground, she swung her arm out, swishing the blade low to the ground to graze his legs. He leapt, just barely above the slice. "You won't!" she cried triumphantly.

She scrambled to her feet and readied herself for the frontal blow James had prepared. Once again, they were braced against each other, blades in a perfect X.

James was out of breath. "Must we do this here? Now?"

"That's the thing about attacks,” she spat. “For someone, they're always UNEXPECTED!" She broke pose and lunged toward him. He, however, grabbed her hand that did not carry a sword and pulled her into him so that her wrist was pulled across her back in an armlock.

He held his blade to her neck and put his face next to hers. "Really, you don't want to be doing this. May we please stop this charade?” Rose tried to spin out of the armlock, but James only pulled her arm tighter. He laughed once more. “This is pointless, you know. We’re both dead, so there’s no use in trying to kill me.”

“Aye, but humiliation and pain are still a viable option!”

His eyes smiled. “Pirate!"

"Pirate yourself!" she hissed.

Rose finally managed to spin out of her armlock in the opposite direction. She was still pressed against him, but now they faced each other. Both of their blades were pressed against each other's necks.

“I freed you,” he said. “What revenge is there to be had?”

Rose snarled, “Recompense for _using_ me! You…confused and manipulated me and set your dogs on me just so I would tell you where the Pirate Lords were meeting!”

"Consider this," he countered. "Who ended up victorious at the end of the War, you or me? You sailed away with kin and lived comfortably for years until you didn’t, while I was long gone even before the first cannon fired. It was a wasted effort on my part regardless!”

Rose growled, "The only reason why I can fathom forgiving you after all this is what you did for Elizabeth."

"And yet you forget that I saved you as well," he finished. He looked down at her neck, then leaned closer to her mischievously. "I see you kept the key, _mademoiselle_."

Her face grew red. Of course. He _would_ spot the one keepsake she kept of his. "I thought the shape was interesting, that's all,” she lied.

He leaned still closer. "No you didn't!"

Rose let out an angry grunt and ducked beneath his blade, freeing hers. She attacked, with a swing to the right, a swing to the left, all of which were blocked successfully by James.

“Predictable,” he scoffed. “Clearly it was Sparrow who taught you how to wield a sword. You’re just as haphazard as he is!”

At the sound of the clanging of their weapons, all peace and progress on deck had ceased entirely, and all of the men rushed to the place where James and Rose were having their row. Most of them watched in silent fascination, while several more eager onlookers drew their weapons and rushed to Rose’s aid in some ill-conceived act of chivalry.

Rose stuck her arms out to keep these would-be protectors at bay. “Please,” she cried out above their grumbling, “I can handle myself, thank you, despite my _haphazard_ swordsmanship,” she said with a pointed look at James.

He only raised his eyebrows in amusement, which angered Rose more. She swung yet again, but he quickly deflected her with only a slight flick of his wrist. Another man inserted himself into the fight, making aims at defending Rose by taking James from behind. However, James’s skill in battle was unquestionably better than anyone else aboard, with the exception of perhaps Will, and James turned just in time to deliver a swift kick to the man’s chest, sending him backwards into the group of onlookers.   
“Did you not just hear what she said?” James scolded him. “She can handle herself, stay out of this!”

“We’re not ‘bout to let you ‘arm her, Norrington!” a small-framed man shouted out.

James rolled his eyes. “What ‘harm,’ you imbeciles? _We’re all dead!_ ”

The man James had kicked back was less than pleased about having been taken out of the fight so quickly, however, and once he recovered from the blow, he launched himself full on at James. This caused the other men to charge at him, stampeding Rose in the process. As rum had been a choice beverage of the evening, several of the men had no idea what they were fighting for and began blindly fighting each other. This had quickly grown out of hand, and had unraveled into something Rose hadn’t anticipated nor could control. Her main prerogative now was to dodge swinging arms and blades and to also find James, who was now somewhere in the middle of the massive tussle.

When a shot fired, all commotion ceased. Rose popped her head out of the mass of bodies to see Will standing at the head of the forecastle deck, pistol raised overhead with a stern-looking Bootstrap at his side.

“Who started this?” Will said, walking slowly towards the group.

Rose had certainly noticed that none of the men had taken James’s side in the scuffle, but she didn’t realize just how opposed to him the crew all were until a ripple of “Norrington” surrounded her as a certain answer for their captain. Rose knew that at least _one_ of these men had seen that it was actually she who had started the fight, but yet all of them were steadfast in blaming James.

She looked to James to see his reaction. Not even he protested, he just ruefully rolled his eyes and pursed his lips.

The crowd dispersed to make room for Will as he approached James. Rose had only ever seen the two of them together once before, when she had first met both of them accidentally on Port Royal many years ago. At that time, James had age, experience, status and Elizabeth over Will, and dismissed him with ease and pleasure. It was the strangest thing to see Will now exerting his power as Captain over James—now his subordinate.

Will looked exhausted. “Why?” he merely asked.

James gave a slight motion of his head towards where Rose stood, saying, “Ask your friend.”

Rose felt the heat of all the men’s eyes on her, and felt her face grow red. However, she had to face the consequences of her actions.

“I started it, Captain,” she told Will.

He looked frustrated with himself, rubbing his neck with hand. “Oh dear. I thought you might know _of_ each other, but not much else. Norrington pursued you and Jack in the Caribbean, didn’t he?”

“Yes sir,” Rose chirped. She did not want to provide more explanation than was necessary.

“Did he pay you personal insult or harm from that time? Is that what brought about the attack?”

She could feel James’s unwavering gaze on her, challenging her to say _exactly_ what brought about the attack. Rose wanted to keep her humiliating past with James a secret from most everyone, but especially this crew and her new Captain, who she wanted nothing more than to impress. She couldn’t afford to give him reason to distrust her; she already had little to nothing to do on this ship. So, she kept her answers concise, replying only, “Yes. I encountered him once again after we were separated at Singapore.”

Will looked confused and intrigued. “What happened?”

The exact question Rose was dreading. Her mind raced, trying to find either a suitable lie, or a elegant way of saying, “I became emotionally troubled, convinced myself that I was in love with him, and divulged perhaps the most important secret in the War on Piracy that could have ended all of our lives.”

The time it was taking for her to formulate a response grew increasingly awkward with every passing second. Rose didn't expect James to speak for her. “She resents me because I held her as my prisoner. I knew her involvement with Sparrow and thought it was the quickest way to locate the _Pearl_ ,” he began.

Rose looked at him in alarm, and his eyes glinted coyly as his mouth opened to continue the story. _No!_ she thought. _He’s going to humiliate me right now in front of everyone._

She was shocked when the words she expected never came. Instead, James proceeded with, “She managed to escape, however. She sought revenge for the time I took from her. Time she could have spent fighting for the cause.”

Will looked at her. “Is that so?” Rose, dumbfounded, only nodded in response. “Well,” he said to both of them, “As this is to be unavoidable, I want to make one thing clear; Whatever happened between you occurred in your past lives. You both have new lives here now, and it is your duty to the _Dutchman_ that is your priority. Am I understood?” He looked at Rose expectantly, to which she replied, “Aye, Captain.”

He then turned to get James’s verbal confirmation, but said under his breath, “And I expect you to honor our agreement, Mister Norrington.”

James raised his eyebrows. “What’s curious is that I _did._ ”

“You could have walked away,” Will hissed, growing closer to him. “You are under orders. Remember that.” He stood there until James begrudgingly spat, “Aye, _Captain._ ”

Will then turned to his men, calling out, “Crew, back to your stations for the night, you know who you are. The rest of you, get some sleep. We’ve got a long day ahead of us tomorrow.” As the men obeyed, Will turned to Rose, saying gently, “That includes you. Best hop-to.”

She instantly replied, “Aye, aye, Captain.” Rose felt great unease at having disappointed her friend and Captain, and was worried about the ramifications her actions might have on her future on Will’s crew.

Soon, everyone had departed, leaving Rose and James alone on deck, an awkward space and silence between them.

Rose could see James out of her peripheral vision staring at her coldly, calculating something to say next. When she saw his chest rise, she immediately said, “Don’t say a word.”

He exhaled loudly through his nose in annoyance, then continued anyway with, “I was _going_ to remark about how badly you wish to impress your Captain.”

“He’s my friend,” Rose replied stiffly. “Of course I want to impress him.”

“He’s not _mine,_ ” James snorted. “Count yourself lucky. He’d always side with you before he’d side with me.” Though she still couldn’t bring herself to look at him, his eyes pored into her. “Although,” he was still saying sardonically, “Why would you feel the impetus to lie to him if he is such a good, ‘friend?’”

“Shut up!” she cried, glaring at him.

“Worry not, Miss Hexfury,” he continued to chide, “Your lies are safe with me.”

This caused Rose to draw her sword once more, and swing out at him. He was able to unsheathe his own at the same time, blocking her blow in the nick of time. Her motions were steadfast and sharp, however, clanging left and right again and again, blow after blow. She repeated the movements until she had moved him backwards toward a rogue plank. He tripped over it, sending him flying backward. She held her cutlass, tip pointed down at his face.

"I would kill you were you not already dead," said she. And with that, she sheathed her sword and walked back toward her chamber without looking back. She smiled when she heard the four men on night duty applaud as she left. True, it must have been quite the spectacle.


	14. Stars

Norrington had re-entered her life. This was a simple truth Rose had to face, and sadly she had to face and _accept_ it, as she had promised Will she would. But now knowing that the majority of her sentence aboard would be spent in close proximity to someone who hurt her so deeply seemed like an unbearable punishment.

What was her choice, though? Go to Will and complain? James was right, Will would undoubtedly side with her, but to what end? James would be punished unfairly, or worse, even maybe sent to the Locker. Or, at the very least, Rose would appear weak and incapable. The only thing she could do was take Will’s advice and stay away from him as best she could.

Therefore, she mostly stuck to the indoors during the day, and came about in the middle of the night when the deck was clear, as most of the men had gone to sleep, no one in sight except for the guard above on the crow's nest. One night, Rose walked up toward the helm and looked over the unnaturally calm ocean. Ever since her sight was restored, Rose relished every moment that she could watch the innumerable stars. Beautiful.

But a firm voice behind her stirred her from her trance. "Incredibly clear, eh?"

She barely glanced behind her, knowing at once who it was. "Christ," she said. “All I ask is for one minute alone, and _you_ materialize." She turned around to James, arms crossed over her chest.

His eyes still glinted playfully. "Still hard feelings then, hmm?" She said nothing and only stared at him. He cleared his throat. "Right. I'll leave you be." She turned back to the stars, shaking her head, but trying to forget that he had been there. She heard him walk away a few paces, but could still tell he stood nearby.

Silence.

And then…

"You can see in the darkness now?"

She gave an exasperated sigh. “Yes."

“So…this is the first time in your life you’ve seen the stars?”

In spite of her annoyance, she smiled, looking back up at the stars which she found so entrancing. “Aye. They’re so much…I don’t know…more majestic than I ever expected.” She grew pensive, thinking back on the past. “I once made someone describe them for me, and he said that they were only white dots.”

James shook his head. “Not for me they aren’t. To me, they’re safety. They’re a sure way home.” He walked back a few paces until he was standing right at her side. After a moment, he said softly, "I'm glad you kept the key.”

She snorted. "A reminder to never trust anyone, _ever._ "

"A good moral," he reasoned, "But a sad way to live."

Rose rolled her eyes, and huffily turned back to him. "You're forgiven. Now could you please go?"

"I appreciate the heartfelt sentiment, but as I recall," he stated, "This is as much my deck as it is yours. So I can stay here if I please...for the next century, in fact."

She pursed her lips, and said nothing, though her mind was searching for some witty comeback. He beat her to it. “You _are_ quite the swordsman, Miss Hexfury."

She groaned. "Don't patronize me. And call me Rose, for God's sake. We're spending the next hundred years together, it might as well be a cordial time."

"Oh no," James said, leaning up against the railing next to her. "As I recall some of your last words to me included the very specific instructions that I was to call you 'Miss Hexfury.'"

She sighed. "Well, consider it then that we both acted rashly." For awhile they were silent, until Rose said, “How did you even get here, anyway? Elizabeth told me that she had Will look for you after he became the Captain to see if you had elected to join Jones’s crew once you were killed, but you weren’t to be found.”

“I refused,” James replied. “Jones offered, but I wasn’t about to stoop to his level.” He took a deep breath. “I wasn’t ferried though. And I’m sure you as well as anyone know where Jones’s enemies go.”

Rose’s eyes went wide. “No,” she gasped. “He sent you to the Locker?”

He stared out into the distance, taking a deep breath. “Bootstrap found me after a time as they were charting. He was the one who had killed me, so needless to say, he recognized me. He brought me ashore, I saw that Turner had become the Captain, and he offered me a way out. I took it.”

Rose wondered how it must be for James to now have to sail beneath the command of his former rival, but she dared not speak the question aloud. She didn’t quite know _what_ to say, so after a time, James continued, “I truly am sorry for leaving you the way I did."

" _Lying_ to me the way you did," Rose corrected gently.

He nodded. "Alright, yes," he responded. "But that last night when you came in so horribly battered by Beckett's men...I swear I had nothing to do with it. My only plan was to get the location of Shipwreck Cove, and I knew I could do it because you trusted me due to the fact that I treated you with kindness."

Rose shook her head and looked straight ahead. "Just to make your life easier. Was it all worth it in the end?"

"No, not just that," he said. "You heard it yourself—none of the men thought I was trustworthy because I was keeping you alive. They were prepared to take us both down and you know that. I had to stay alive by whatever means so that I could ensure—"

"So that you could save Elizabeth." Rose had replayed their days together so many times that she had put together her own idea of what James’s motives were many years ago. "My details about the _Pearl_ had given you hope about their survival. You naturally wanted to save her." 

"I knew there was no other way." He paused, then changed the subject. "I had already planned the trick with the key," he said, pointing to the now present key hanging around her neck. "After the men took you that night, I went to retrieve it as one of the men on duty was asleep. First thing in the morning, I gave you the bread that I had hidden the key inside, and returned back to my quarters, where there were two or three armed sailors there to escort me to Beckett's ship."

"And you gained control of the _Dutchman,_ as Beckett promised?” Rose finished.

"Yes," he answered. "Or at least, I _tried._ Clearly, Elizabeth told you how I died that night."

“Aye,” Rose said. Taking a deep breath, she admitted, “…only after I returned to Port Royal to find and kill you myself.”

He cocked his head to the side. “My, your hatred for me really _is_ deep-seeded isn’t it? What is it they say? ‘Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned?’”

Rose pursed her lips. “Well, I suppose you’re forgiven now, seeing as I _can’t_ very well kill you, especially now knowing what you sacrificed for Elizabeth.” She considered for a moment, then added, “And for lying on my behalf in front of the crew. Thank you.”

He nodded. “I could see that you wish to not be remembered as the one who nearly gave up the location of Shipwreck Cove.”

“Nor as the one who let her emotions get the better of her,” she snorted. “Which, I apologize for in retrospect. None of what I was feeling at the time was real.”

She saw James slightly draw back from her at this. “What do you mean? The…kiss?”

“All of it,” she replied. “I was deeply unhappy and lonesome. Anything I expressed was brought about by trauma alone. It was all a misunderstanding and a mistake.”

There was a long pause, wherein neither of them said a word nor made a move. Finally, Rose broke the silence with, “As we’ve made amends, perhaps we could be friends.”

She glanced up at him, the first chance she really had to get a look at him this close. Something had changed in his demeanor. He seemed cold and uncaring, just as he had when they had first met. “Perhaps,” he said curtly. He then walked away without another word, leaving her there alone beneath her vast blanket of stars.


	15. Changing Like the Tide

Days passed, and still, Rose was rendered useless by Will’s secret intent to keep her out of harm’s reach. Therefore, Rose spent the next painstakingly long days on the ship trying to make water move. If she was to be the most useful, she had to know how to control the element of water to the utmost extent of her newfound powers. One particular day, when the ship was anchored in the harbor of a new island and the vast majority of the crew were ashore looking for one of Jones’s forgotten prisoners, there was barely anyone aboard save a man or two performing various odd jobs as the ship bobbed peacefully on the Locker’s calm seas. Rose took the opportunity to practice her powers. She leaned across the starboard rail and stared at a centralized spot of water floating beneath.

She began by emptying her mind of all thought, concentrating on only what she was seeing. She stretched out her hand and...nothing. She tried again.

Nothing.

She beat her hands on the rail, cursing under her breath. Her head wasn't clear, it was _spinning._ She was flighty and finicky.

_Stop thinking. Concentrate._

Nothing. Not even a ripple of a wave. Just stillness.

James had arrived shortly thereafter. If there was one thing that Rose noticed since discovering that he too was a crewman aboard the _Dutchman,_ it was that James never went on the scouting missions. She noticed that Bootstrap would approach him occasionally, presumably extending him an offer, but James would always refuse, electing to stay separate from the others. When he approached her this day after yet another refusal to go ashore, he let out a sharp exhale of air. “Back at it again, I see.”

“Yes.” Rose felt mild annoyance. She didn’t need his teasing right now. Progress was eminent, she _knew_ it. She just needed to focus…

_Concentrate. CONCENTRATE._

She stared into the waves, now black, reflecting dark clouds that loomed overhead. She held both of her hands outstretched and closed her eyes.

"Perhaps its time you rested," his voice pierced through the silence.

Rose opened her eyes. He was standing adjacent to her, just a few meters away, hoisting a bucket of water into the ocean. Rose felt anger boil through her blood. "I'm doing just fine, thank you."

He peered over the edge. "Doesn't look like it."

"Do you mind?"

He raised his eyebrows, and put a hand up as if to say, "Alright, I'll leave you alone."

Rose turned back and closed her eyes, her pulse elevated. _Now you have an audience. Now you are being judged..._

Splash.

_What?_

Rose opened her eyes and to her great surprise, she saw beneath her ripple upon ripple coming from the waves beneath her. Her eyes caught James’s. They shared a bewildered glance, then together their eyes turned back to the sea.

She leaned forward closer to the water and held out her hand.

Nothing.

Rose was incredulous! That couldn't have been her imagination! She pounded on the railing again, letting out an exasperated growl. "It's not working!" she yelled.

"What exactly are you trying to do?" James asked, moving slightly closer to her.

“I _supposedly_ have been granted power over the seas.”

He nodded. “I’ve heard rumors of that going around. How’s that going?”

She glared at him and motioned to the waters below. “Clearly, it’s not going _anywhere_! It’s impossible! I can't get this right."

He leaned over the railing. "Well come on. Try once more."

Rose looked skeptical, but closed her eyes again.

_Please. Please, just once more. James is here._

Splash.

That time she saw it! As though she had thrown invisible sand into the sea, the beads of water on the surface had bounced to all sides, creating those endlessly growing ripples. She beamed.

"See?" he said. "Do it once more."

Rose brought her focus forward again, and swiped her hand across the water's surface.

Nothing.

"But how?" she cried. "I don't understand. Why is it so inconstant?"

"Just calm down," James said. He hoisted his bucket of water up and set it on the rail. He moved closer still to Rose and put a hand on her shoulder. "Just try once more."

Rose was certain that this time would end in failure. All she could think about was the person who was at present touching her. Still, just to appease him, she closed her eyes and... Water splashed to the left. She swiped to the right. It moved to the right!

She whooped with joy and turned to James to share the moment with him, but she felt her heart sink as he gave a slight smile and turned away to return back to his work.

Then it hit her! Well, actually, it hit _him_ , because Rose swiped water to her left and upward. It missed her target, which would have preferably been the back of his head. It hit the top of the railing and sprayed in every direction, hitting his arm instead.

He stopped and looked back at her skeptically. Rose's eyes were wide with anticipation, awaiting his response. She raised an eyebrow, silently challenging him to retaliate.

She saw him stand straight, slowly reach into the bucket and toss a handful of water in her direction. She quickly dodged out of the way, but the water hit her foot. She let out a shriek as she ran to the opposite end of the ship and directed another stream of water at him. This time it hit his shoulder. He grinned mischievously and grabbed more water from the bucket and chased her across to the port side. The water hit her hair.

Swipe! Rose got the right side of his face.

Splash! He hit her back.

Swipe! She missed him.

He grabbed the bucket in its entirely and tossed it at her. Rose anticipated the action and held up her hand, causing the water to stop its motion toward her and break into small droplets that fell over the two of them like rain. 

This merriment was not to last, however, as the quartermaster noticed the commotion and approached. "Oi!" he yelled. "Clean this up! The both of ye! That's an order!"

James struggled to contain his laughter, and Rose failed altogether, her shoulders shaking. Finally, James managed to say, "Yes, sir."

The quartermaster stalked away, furious. James quickly leaned in to Rose and whispered something into her ear. She responded immediately, taking his order, and sent a sharp, solitary spray right at the back of his head. They were silent when he turned back, as though nothing had happened, and waited until he had gone to burst again into a new fit of laughter.

Then, reluctantly, it was time that they both turned their attention to their work; They had to swab the now soaking deck. "It appears you have made my job all the easier,” James said. “This was just what I was about to do anyway.”

"Not exactly," Rose replied, "For now you're in trouble. _Again._ ”

"I'm always in trouble," he scoffed. "Quite honestly, this was my job. You can go back to whatever you need to be doing."

"No," she said. "We'll do it together. I was given an order and I do not wish to be on the bad side of the quartermaster.” She gave a small chuckle as she then said bitterly, “Besides, your guess as to ‘whatever I need to be doing,’ is as good as mine.”

His eyes met hers as they worked. “What do you mean?” he asked.

She shrugged. “I have nothing to do here.”

“Will’s…having you do _nothing_? Nothing whatsoever?” he asked in disbelief. When she shook her head, he asked, “Has he had any reason to distrust you before?”

“See, I’ve been racking my mind, and not any that I can think of! He’s always held me in high regard. And he’s seen me in combat and knows how I sail!” She sighed. “I am easily as good at both as any man here.”

James gave a small smile and placed his brush back in the bucket. “Is that so?” he said, voice raised.

She raised an eyebrow, sensing a challenge. “…aye?”

“I can’t speak for your sailing, but your swordsmanship needs significant improvement,” he said in a superior tone.

Rose scoffed at his arrogance. “Excuse you, I believe _I_ won that fight.”

He leaned towards her. “Oh come now, I let you win. I could have ended it far earlier if I had wanted to.”

Rose narrowed her eyes at him in annoyance. “Oh really?”

“Aye.” He then wiped his hands on his trousers and stood. “Come now, on your feet,” he ordered.

“What?”

He unsheathed his sword. “Do you want to learn or not? You claim to be as good as ‘any man’ aboard, so it’s time you learned from the best,” he unabashedly boasted.

Rose laughed, which resulted in a swift glare from James as she rose to her feet. “You are _not_ the best swordsman on this ship,” she snickered.

“Oh really? Name one better,” he challenged.

“Will,” she replied instantly.

He opened his mouth to protest, then closed it, defeated. “Fine, yes, he’s better.”

“Well,” Rose admitted, “I only saw you in combat the once. I am far more familiar with seeing Will fighting alongside me.”

“No, no, he’s better,” James sighed. He then begrudgingly muttered under his breath, “He _was_ walking backwards on that bloody mill wheel, wasn’t he?”

Rose raised an eyebrow. “You…fought on a mill wheel?”

“It would take too long to explain,” he replied. “Come now, draw your weapon!”

Rose pursed her lips and reluctantly unsheathed her sword. “I really shouldn’t be doing this,” she said, clearly trying to get out of his lesson.

“Oh really? Because I believe you just told me you had nothing better to do,” he challenged. When she had no response, he continued, “Come. Raise it up.” She sighed, then obeyed. Immediately, he asked, “What is that?”

“What?”

“What are you doing with your wrist?”

Exasperated, she dropped her hands to her sides. “I’m _holding_ it! What, am I doing that wrong too?”

He tensed his cutlass. “Hit me,” he said.

Tentatively, she tapped his blade with hers.

“Hexfury…” he groaned in annoyance.

“Fine!” she cried, striking out at him.

“There!” he exclaimed. “You see that? I kept my wrist tight, and my arm took all of the impact. Hit again.” She did, and this time, the blade absorbed her force. “See? Loose wrist. That way your hand doesn’t get knocked clean off your arm. Now, let me strike, and you block and respond accordingly.”

Her attention quickly was fully drawn toward defending herself from his blows, but suddenly, he started moving around towards her left. She began moving left as well, to which he stopped.“What are you doing _now_?”

“You said to respond, so I did!”

“It’s truly a wonder you lived as long as you did,” he replied with a profuse amount of sass. “You _counter_ my movements _,_ don’t move towards me!”

Their lessons continued this way for a few hours, where he would supply a new lesson, she would inevitably fail, and he’d make a snide comment. After awhile, it stopped infuriating Rose, however. She found herself invigorated by his challenges, for she didn’t realize just how insatiable she was to do _anything._ His taking the time to teach her was a welcome break from the monotony, and after awhile, she found herself laughing at his judgmental comments. Clearly he wasn’t being cruel, this was merely an extension of his pompous personality.

He had just taught her a maneuver which she had failed repeatedly, and finally once she had successfully completed it, he gave her an earnest look. The both of them were out of breath as he said, “Alright, Hexfury…you’re…you’re going to have to prove to me that you learned _anything_ today, then I’ll let you go. Deal?”

Rose grimaced. “Must we? That means that you’re going to test me on everything you’ve shown me, doesn’t it?”

James grinned. “And no holding back this time. …and _no_ water, you cheat!”

She chuckled, remembering how when he had had her backed into a corner, she used her powers to swipe him in the face with a splash of water. “Fine, deal,” she finally replied. She then took a moment to consider, then bent over, placing her hands on her knees and breathing heavily. “Just…give me a moment. I’m feeling a bit…lightheaded.”

He furrowed his brow and approached her in concern. “Are you alright?” he asked.

Suddenly, Rose leapt upwards, quickly striking at him. Shocked, James managed to dodge himself out of the reach of her blade, then was able to shield himself from another blow with his own blade. “Nicely done!” he said, impressed.

She laughed. “You underestimate me,” she said breathily.

“A mistake I won’t be making again.” He put all his weight into pushing her away, which sent her leaping back away from him. They then countered each other in a circle, waiting for the first to strike. Rose lashed out first, and James responded by swinging right at her head. She dodged beneath the arc of the swing and reached out to jab him from a low angle, which he also dodged. They then clanged away at one another, driving each other forwards and backwards across the deck. James began to best her, pushing her further and further towards the rear of the ship where she was about to be cornered. She noticed a barrel, and leapt atop it, continuing to block his motions as she spun out of the corner and now opening herself to the rest of the deck. James then put his all into his actions, and Rose began to feel real tension as she realized that he was actually providing her with a legitimate challenge. Using spins, kicks, parries, crosses, movements became blurred but her mind was whirring rapidly, calculating every action and all of his counter-actions. Again and again and again and then—

“What’s all this?” Bootstrap roared. Before Rose knew quite what was happening, three men had wedged themselves between her and James, wrangling his weapon away from him. The scouting party had returned at the most inopportune moment, and must have instantly read their very intense sword fight to be a real battle.

“Stop! No!” Rose shouted. Suddenly, the ocean reeled, sending the ship rocking precariously and all aboard the _Dutchman_ stumbling to get traction. Rose braced herself, dropping her sword and keeping her hands still and out to her sides. She closed her eyes and tried to calm her breathing. Clearly, the shift in the tides had been caused by her sudden distress.

When the waters grew calm again, Rose opened her eyes to see the men looking about in complete bewilderment, a few more surfacing from a midday slumber below decks. Will and Coats, who had been spending the day charting the new island, emerged from the Captain’s Quarters. “What was that?” Will asked. 

Rose breathed a sigh of relief as she discovered two things; None of them suspected her as having been the cause, and, for the time being, James wasn’t being accosted. While Will and a few of the men looked overboard to see if some abnormally large sea creature had caused the disruption, Bootstrap’s gaze was still fixed on Rose. He approached her and James, who still stood where they had been left, looking completely disoriented by the sudden activity.

“What was all that?” Bootstrap said sternly.

“Mister Norrington was teaching me how to fight,” Rose explained. “It was completely congenial, I assure you.”

Bootstrap tensed his jaw, looking back at Norrington. “Remember your orders,” he said simply. “Don’t make me get Will involved again.”

He then walked away, back towards where most of the men were still debating what could have caused the disruption.

Rose looked up at James. “What ‘orders?’” she asked him. “Will and Bootstrap keep saying that. What are they ordering you to do?”

He only stared straight ahead and shook his head slightly. Changing the subject entirely, he said after a moment, “I still won that fight, I’ll have you know.”

Rose opened her mouth to protest, but Will’s voice ordering the men to prepare to make sail called James away to work. He gave her a wry grin as he sauntered away smugly.

“Admit it!” she called after him. “I’m _just_ as good as you!”

He only glanced over his shoulder, giving a very certain shake of his head. _No._

She gave a slight laugh and rolled her eyes, then watched him leave. Perhaps friendship _was_ a possibility between them. Rose was convinced that just as she had learned how to make her powers materialize today, she could also learn to overcome her feelings for him from the past, which still continued to plague her. James clearly had no one else as a friend or ally onboard…perhaps their friendship could benefit them both. After all, Rose’s swordsmanship _had_ improved significantly by his lessons, and it was because of his encouragement that she discovered the beginnings of Calypso’s powers. Which reminded her…now that she _could,_ she should keep doing her utmost to refining her powers. She turned away to go back to practicing in an uninhabited part of the deck, but Will was standing only a few paces behind her.

Rose smiled at him, hoping that this would be the extent of their communication for the moment.

It wasn’t.

He caught her by the arm as she tried to pass him. Quietly, he said, “I know what it feels like to hit a reef. I know what it feels like to be tossed around by a storm. I know what it feels like to have an enormous sea monster attack your vessel. None of those was what just happened.” He looked earnestly at her, asking, “Was that you? Did you rock the ship with your powers?”

Rose took a deep breath nervously and eventually nodded. “Aye,” she replied. “I can’t quite control them yet, but with practice I shall. I just discovered how to begin using them today.”

Will’s face reflected pain as he sighed, reluctant with what he was about to say. “Perhaps…you should wait on those for the time being,” he said. “We’ve already got so much in progress aboard, we can’t afford to have anything go awry as you try to get them under your control.”

“What?” Rose asked, her heart sinking into her stomach.

Will audibly winced, as he could see that what he had just ordered had completely eviscerated all of her hope. “Don’t continue practicing,” he said in finality. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it, alright?”

He turned and left before she could respond, feeling completely torn. The situation he was presented with was beyond his control, as he had charges from Calypso to strictly obey. This didn’t mean that he liked stifling Rose’s want for purpose. In fact, he loathed it.

Rose, meanwhile, was almost in tears as she watched him march away from her. Now she truly had nothing. In her living days, she was always expected to do everything in her power to help. Now she had _powers_ to help and couldn’t do a thing about it, from the most supernatural to the most mundane.

She had nothing left now. And in having nothing, she _was_ nothing.


	16. The Hurricane

Rose didn’t want to go on deck anymore. It was just a reminder of all the potential she was not permitted to have. So she spent the night alone in her room, utterly restless and trying her best to fathom some next plan of action. But everything she came up with was quickly shot down by the notion that no matter what she did, Will would tell her to stop.

She lost track of time as she paced her room, and was only stirred from her thoughts when she felt the entire ship begin to quake. She braced herself against the wall as she felt the ship careen downwards, hearing the walls creak against the pressure of the sea. They were clearly making a return back to Earth, the first time in weeks. _Someone ashore must be dying at sea,_ Rose thought. A few times, Rose would be awake and on deck in the middle of the night after most of the other men had gone to sleep. Souls from Earth who had died that day materialized in boats and began to encircle the ship. Will would be alone, and would take the wheel, steering the ship towards an unmistakeable mist hovering in the distance. The boats would follow, then Will would weigh anchor, letting them float peacefully by and onward into the afterlife. It was stunningly serene to witness, and was one of the many facets of Will’s daily job as Captain of the _Flying Dutchman_. For the ship to be going to Earth, however, was a different matter entirely; Lone souls would come in the boats, not providing a need to leave the Locker. Something significant must be happening on the other side.

Rose waited until she felt the ship soar up and back into Earth waters, then she left her room and raced out to the deck. She was immediately buffeted by harsh winds as she gazed upon gray skies and was met with a forceful patter of rain.

She joined the men as they gazed out towards the eye of a hurricane, which was tossing around a large galleon violently. She filled a space near where Defoe and a man named Srivastav were discussing the sight.

“Shame,” Srivastav was saying. “Twenty-nine souls aboard, the Captain says.”

“Forget the souls,” Defoe said, “Shame about the ship.” He clucked his tongue. “I had a ship like that in my day. Tell ya what, if I had _that_ ship…just imagine the damage one could do.”

Srivastav looked skeptically at Defoe. “You sayin’ that you’d trade the souls aboard for the ship?”

Defoe snorted. “Men are men. They can be replaced.”

He then caught Rose’s eye, and raised his eyebrows. “Can I help ya?” he snapped, causing her to instantly avert her gaze.

James then joined Rose where she stood, intentionally placing himself between her and Defoe. She looked over at him to acknowledge his presence, but all he did was overlook the morbid scene. Rose was quickly taken aback at how troubled he appeared. After several moments of watching the tempest rage, tossing the ship wildly along the troubled waters, he turned from the scene and walked a few paces to where Will stood at the helm.

“Are we not going to help them?” James shouted up to him.

Will tightened his jaw, preparing for the inevitable verbal sparring that was bound to take place. “It’s not our place to interfere. This was predestined.”

“Are you daft?” replied James. At this, everyone’s attention had fully turned from the dramatics of the hurricane to the quarrel between the Captain and James, who continued his rant. “We’re just _sitting_ here watching them perish, when we could go in and stop this! We have the _Flying Dutchman,_ Turner!”

Will turned his full attention on James, his eyes furious. “I am fully aware of which ship I captain, though it appears as though you have forgotten your place in my crew, Norrington,” he warned.

“On the contrary, I’ve tried very hard to forget, yet here we are.” He gestured to Rose, protesting, “We have her, why aren’t we using her?”

Rose’s heart began to race in panic when two dozen eyes all shifted on her. James didn’t honestly think that she could possibly stop a hurricane’s wrath all on her own, did he?

“Leave Rose out of this,” warned Will.

“I’ve seen what she can do! With her help, there are many lives aboard that vessel that you wouldn’t have to ferry across to the other side! Besides ignorance of seasonal patterns, what else is their crime?”

Will walked a few paces to square off with Norrington. “Don’t think for a moment that I don’t want to help as well. But that’s not the job. We don’t interfere with matters of life and death. Our job is merely to ferry souls to the other side, is that understood? And while I have heard lore of Rose’s abilities, I don’t think that she is in any way ready to control them yet. That marks the end of this discussion.” Will raised his voice to address the entire crew as he commanded, “We are to wait for the storm to pass, then go in, look for survivors, ferry the dead, and loot whatever’s leftover, just like any other mission. Have I made myself clear?”

The men, sans James who only sat there stewing silently, barked in unison, “Aye, Captain!”

“…aye, Captain,” Rose murmured after the rest, eyes still fixated on a brooding James, whose gaze was now back on the storm-ridden ship. Her gaze too shifted to the scene when she heard distant screams of the men and a large splash. That was when the crew of the _Dutchman_ watched as the ship was tossed on its side by the uncontrollable waves, jettisoning the men into the churning sea with its rapid motion. Those who stayed afloat desperately rode the waves atop loose barrels, ropes or rogue pieces of the ship that had broken off.

Rose’s view of this horrific scene changed however when James briskly approached her, taking her by the arm and leading her below deck, saying under his breath, “Come with me.”

In her confusion, she silently obeyed as they disappeared below deck an into the deserted gun deck. James let go of her there and made haste to push aside a starboard cannon from a porthole and opening it, therefore forming a window from which they could look out at the capsized ship from below the main deck.

“James, what is this?” Rose asked, approaching where he stood peering out at the sight. “Why are we here?”

His brow was furrowed with intense concentration. “This isn’t irreversible,” he muttered, mostly to himself. “If there was a break in the storm for just a moment, even…and a strong westerly wave…”

Suddenly, Rose realized why James had taken her down here by herself; he had gone rogue, deliberately disobeying Will’s orders in favor of trying to save the crew of the capsized vessel. “Oh no!” she exclaimed. “Absolutely not! I am not going to go against the _Captain’s_ orders and risk being sent to the Locker over what ultimately is the fates of a few men. Innocent men, I’ll admit, but men who were destined to die this day.”

“First of all, Will would never send you to the Locker,” James countered. “If anyone would see that wrath, we both know it would and shall be me. Secondly, we have the resources to save lives! Why wouldn’t we?”

Rose scoffed. “Because one of those ‘resources,’ is me! What you saw the other day was merely a few splashes of seawater on a deck! I am nowhere near ready to make any sort of significant impact with my powers at this time, let alone attempting to control a hurricane!”

“Another point in which he’s wrong,” James argued once more. “With my guidance and your powers, we could change all of this! Just the two of us!”

“No, James. I’m not ready.”

“Don’t allow the opinions of one man discourage you!”

“A man who just so happens to be a captain!”

“As was I!” James stated, rendering Rose silent. “I was a lieutenant, a captain, a commodore, and an admiral… I’ve had _many_ more years on the sea than he ever has, and I subsequently feel certain in my discretion; You can do this.”

Rose was still unconvinced. “Why does this matter so much to you?” she asked. But as soon as the words left her mouth, she instantly knew the answer and simultaneously wished that she could have taken the inquiry back. James’s guilt-ridden expression confirmed her suspicions; He was so impassioned by this particular scene and determined to save the crew in order to atone for a similar act of belligerence years ago that cost him his crew, his ship, and his dignity. In pursuit of the _Pearl,_ he had made a rash decision to sail through a hurricane rather than around it in attempts to catch up to Jack. He washed up on shore alone days later, with the deaths of honorable, loyal men on his hands. By saving this crew, he was honoring the men whose lives he had ended prematurely.

After a moment, James only said, “None of them deserve to die. Perhaps the fool who ordered them into the hurricane, but otherwise…” His voice trailed off. He looked back at her, pleading, “Please help me. The only way that we can accomplish this is if we do it together.”

Though still uncertain, Rose finally consented. “I’m not sure how much I can do,” she said. “I don’t control elements of the air, only the water.”

They both peered out of the porthole. “Alright,” James calculated. “It’s the wind that’s causing the waves. Do you think that you can resist it? Hold the waters back against the wind?”

Rose gulped. “I can try…” She stretched her hands outward, gazing down at the waves immediately below them. She first wanted to run a test to ensure that she at least had enough control over herself to actually perform any of her powers even in their most minor form. When she was successful, she took a deep breath and moved her focus toward the churning waters before them. Once she had connected with the waves, however, every nerve in her forearms jolted as though she had been struck by lightning. She let out a cry and leapt backwards, losing her focus.

She rubbed her wrists, wincing, “It’s too strong. I’m not strong enough to hold the waves back!”

James placed a steady hand on her back. “You have never experienced anything like this before. Now you know what to expect. Try again!”

Though his tone was encouraging, Rose’s mouth fell agape that he honestly still expected her to battle a hurricane despite seeing the immense pain it had just caused her.

James noticed her reluctance and turned to face her. “Look, I won’t do anything to hurt you, I promise. We _have_ to give this our best shot, though! Please try once more.”

Rose nodded in agreement, saying, “You need to be prepared for failure, James. This might not be possible.”

“Well, then, we at least will know that we did all we could.”

Rose took a deep breath, then pulled her focus to the focal point of the hurricane once more. Her body connected with the waves again, and the pain caused her arms to shake. She endured it, crying out in pain once again, but this time maintaining her hold on the waters. However, her arms shook so wildly that she was doing nothing to brace the sea against the wind; she was merely along for the ride.

James noticed this too. “Steady…” he said carefully.

Then he placed his hand on her back once more, and that somehow drew Rose away from the pain. Her focus was evermore sharp, and though still she trembled, her arms ceased their terrible shaking and the waters grew far more still.

“Excellent, excellent,” said James quietly yet intensely. He took a moment to evaluate, then found the next action to take. He turned to her first, asking, “Are you alright?”

“Quite,” Rose replied breathily.

“Do you think that you could hold with one hand and push a wave to the starboard side of their vessel?”

With her gaze unwavering, Rose growled through gritted teeth, “So you want me to control a hurricane with one hand when I can barely manage the deed with _two_?”

He grew closer to her, whispering, “Come on, you can do this!”

Rose took another large intake of breath, and pulled her left hand from its outstretched position. Her right arm once again began to shake violently with the intensity of holding the force of the water all on its own. The shooting pain began again, and Rose yelled in agony. James was quick to respond, pulling her back into his chest as he used his own right arm to steady hers.

“I’ve got you,” he said. “Now, with the left, send a wave starboard.”

Rose looked out at the scene of the hurricane again, and furrowed her brow in concentration. She moved her left hand outwards, but nothing moved. They both realized that it was because half of her body was holding the sea back while the other half was trying to make it move.

“Alright, release your hold,” James ordered gently.

Rose flexed her right hand, letting the waves go and quickly swiping her left hand, sending a wave to the ship and its shipwrecked crew.

“Now hold again…”

Rose put her right arm out again and took an intake of breath when the pain came back, but held it steady.

“That wasn’t enough to push it upright,” he noted. “Send another.”

She did.

“Now hold.”

And she did.

“Another.

“Hold…

“Another…

“Hold!

“One more! Yes, that’s it!

“Hold!

“Great, Rose, just one more! Now all of it! Give it everything you’ve got!”

Rose let out a war cry, taking both of her arms and pushing them outwards. Together, they had caused the ship to rock, and with her last effort, the capsized vessel was pushed back upwards. True, its mast was lost to the depths, but Rose watched as the tiny specks that were the men originally aboard her scrambled to climb back on deck. She noticed that a few men had been tossed astray by the storm, and gave another push of the waters to guide them back to the ship, but was careful to stop its progress before it rocked the vessel too roughly.

James still had his arms around her as they together watched the last of the men climb aboard their tattered ship.

Out of breath, Rose noted, “The storm. It’s clearing!”

James too examined this, and he broke into a elated grin. Releasing her, together they celebrated in wild laughter. So thrilled was James, that it was awhile before he noticed that Rose had stopped celebrating and was sitting crouched against the _Dutchman’s_ walls, clutching her right arm. He quickly rushed to her side, sitting opposite her and reaching out to take the arm she was nursing.

“My word, are you hurt? What is it?”

Rose didn’t respond immediately, but slowly murmured, “I did it. I can control my powers!”

James smiled. “I never doubted you could.” He looked about ready to say something else, but just then they were interrupted.

“Norrington,” Will said sternly. “Come with me.”

James and Rose looked across the deck to the doorway where their Captain stood, face hardened with anger. They had disobeyed his command, which was in turn the command of fate. They both quickly rose to their feet, and James obediently walked to where Will was, but Rose interrupted, saying, “It was just as much me as it was him, Will. I could have resisted, but I didn’t.”

James looked back at her, shaking his head, “No. This was all me. She was merely the tool of my plans.”

Will said nothing, simply turning and walking back up the ladder back towards his quarters. James followed wordlessly as well, leaving Rose feeling just as hollow and empty as the room which she now found herself alone in.

* * *

Rose paced her room, restless. Would Will send for her himself after he was done reprimanding James? What would James’s punishment be? It had been hours since the incident, and she found herself concerned that he would be sent back to where he came from in the Locker. Will couldn’t afford an insubordinate colleague, so it was entirely within the scope of possibility that James could already be banished. 

Her mind raced through every possible scenario when she heard a knock at her door. She took a deep breath; This was either Will coming after her for her mistake, or James reporting what was sure to be the worst. Finally, she opened the door, revealing a forlorn-looking James.

She opened the door wider to him, to welcome him in. His gaze travelled around the room, as it was his first time inside of it.

After several moments of silence, Rose couldn’t take it any longer. “Well?” she asked, ringing her hands. “What did Will have to say?”

Quietly, James said, “He emphasized why we cannot reverse the hands of fate. There are matters that are out of our hands. We cannot undo every hurricane, reverse every tragedy. Things must run their course, and we are but fate’s servants.”

“But what of you?” she asked. “You’re…alright? You’re still here, I mean…”

He snorted, eyes averted. Bitterly, he muttered, “Aye. I’m most definitely still here.”

Rose furrowed her brow. “That’s all?”

James still wouldn’t look up at her, taking a deep breath before stating plainly, “I think it’s best if we keep away from each other.”

“Ah,” she realized. “So that _wasn’t_ all. He told you to keep your distance from me, is that it?”

“It’s something I’ve been rationalizing for awhile now, actually.” His eyes remained downcast as he said, almost as though reciting a line of prewritten words, “I have 96 years of servitude left, and I would just like to get through them quickly and quietly. This is already painful enough as it is.”

Rose was at a loss for words. She didn’t understand if these words were influenced with pressure put upon by Will, or if James really meant what he was saying. “Painful?” she managed to squeak out. “What do you mean, ‘painful?’”

He dodged her question and instead stating as he turned away from her, “Turner wishes to see you as well. Best step-to.”

As he turned to leave, Rose followed him. “James, please. I don’t understand…”

James took a deep breath, then after a moment spun around, quipping, “What’s there to misunderstand?” Rose recoiled, not feeling this amount of irritability radiating from James since her days as his prisoner on Port Royal. He continued, “Let’s just keep our distance, alright? How did you put it? ‘This was all just a misunderstanding and a mistake,’ correct?”

“James…”

He sidestepped her to leave the room, stating simply, “As I said, Turner awaits.”


	17. Her Purpose

“He’s clearly returned to his old self, pompous and obstinate as ever.

“He is a cold and bitter man hardened by years of disappointment.

“He stays separate from the other men, and hasn’t made a single ally aboard in four years.

“He’s very volatile and has many reasons to wish harm upon you.

“His time in the Locker caused him severe damage of the mind…”

Will had been lecturing Rose for what had felt like hours. He began with a speech similar to the one he had given James: It was not their place to interfere with the hands of fate, despite the fact that Rose had proved such reversal possible with her recent demonstration of her powers. It was the _Dutchman’s_ sole duty to aid in the process of death, not usurp it.

Then Will’s lecture progressed onwards to him apologizing for inadvertently allowing James to coerce her into helping him, and then morphed into a stern monologue about all the reasons why James should not be in her proximity. But the more Will spoke, the less Rose really listened. At the root of the matter, this simply wasn’t fair. She could understand why they could not interfere with matters of death: it was impossible to save every life and interfering could alter the course of the future depending on what actions were made. But what irked her was that no one would give James a chance of redemption, thus ostracizing him. She, meanwhile, did nothing but give him chance after chance, yet he was forcefully ostracized from her.

This was not to mention Rose’s complete uselessness aboard the _Dutchman,_ rendered only by Will’s command _._ At least James realized the potential of her powers. Now she was left entirely without purpose. If not for this purpose, _what_ purpose?

Will was still spouting his condemnations against James. “For your sake, I hope you aren't...falling for his tricks, as both I and many of the other men fear you are.”

“What is my purpose here?” Rose interrupted.

Will appeared to be taken aback. “What?”

“I said, ‘What is my purpose here?’” she sat forward in her seat, addressing her captain earnestly. “Will, I’m restless. I have been granted these abilities whether I’ve wanted them or not, yet you refuse to have me help you. I cannot use my powers in the slightest, I’m not permitted to help chart the Locker, I’m not permitted to do any labor on deck… so why am I here?”

Will shifted uncomfortably in his seat, swallowing the truth yet again and stating judicially, “I was met with a difficult task in taking one woman aboard. Do I put the expectation upon you to take the same workload as my most experienced men? I knew you as a friend I owed a significant debt to. How do I serve as your superior?” He leaned towards her, lowering his voice. “I wanted to minimize your efforts on deck, to give you a bit of a…respite, I suppose, from all your many years of hardship. I am realizing that now perhaps I was misguided in my assumptions.”

Rose smiled at his apology. “I appreciate your concern, but I have been literally begging you for work. I have an immense desire to do my part for this vessel. That part cannot possibly be for the sole purpose of on deck entertainment. I was not my mother in life, nor shall I be in death.”

Will sat back, considering her offer. He still appeared skeptical, but finally he conceded. “Alright,” he said, which caused Rose’s hopes to soar. “Starting tomorrow, you are permitted to work on deck. Have some of the men show you how with this particular ship: Martin, Fitzgerald, Srivastav, my father…they know and respect you. Seek them out. If _anyone_ treats you poorly, inform me at once. Understood?”

Rose nodded happily. “And what of my powers, Captain? You’ve seen what I can do.”

He pondered this for a moment, then gave Rose an offer she would gladly take. “Refine them,” he said. “Then, take me aside in a week or so and show me exactly what you can do. We shall assess from there.”

* * *

Rose barely slept that night she was so excited. With her eyesight no longer a hindrance to her, death far behind her, and the tide on her side, she had more power than ever to actually serve a purpose on board. Although Will had only allowed her to partake in menial labor, it was a small step forward that promised a great deal of payoff. 

Just as Will recommended, Rose sought help from her biggest allies on board. Although at first the men seemed a bit unnerved by her queries about the ship’s function and were slightly patronizing, many of them quickly adjusted to this change and were willing to help her. From her days in the tavern to her days in the bayou, she was raised to be a quick learner, and that much had not changed. While she quickly remembered how to knot, hoist and repair sails, and re-tar the deck, she recalled how steering the ship was her strong suit. While she much rather preferred steering manually rather than using her powers to influence the ship’s movement, she would practice her powers in moments of spare time.

Two weeks passed like this. Rose would master a long-retired skill from the past every day until she was familiar with every function and inner working of the ship. She knew every cannon, every rope, every crate that the ship had. She would spend half the day doing menial work, half the day refining her powers, and the entire day avoiding James. The ship wasn’t _that_ large, and especially when in the afternoons Bootstrap would lead a search party to a different part of the Locker to look for new crewmen and chart its location, the crew’s size was greatly diminished, making it painfully awkward when the two would encounter one another.

James kept his word and his distance. He remained cognizant of Rose’s whereabouts as not to bother her, but tried not to pay her too much mind for his own sake. He watched silently as she grew closer and closer to the other men, but grew increasingly disturbed with Defoe’s proximity to her. From afar, he could clearly see his lingering gaze, boastful behavior when he was near her, and even overheard several demeaning remarks made to the other men about Rose. James stayed silent, but ever watchful.

And then one morning he watched Rose come to the deck to begin the day’s work. He watched until he lost sight of her as she walked into a side corridor to fetch something she needed. He watched as Defoe, who was still heavily intoxicated from a previous night of festivities, closely following behind her and checking over his shoulder to ensure that he wasn’t being followed. When the two of them were out of James’s sight, he turned back to his work, knowing that he shouldn’t get involved.

…however, what he had seen ate at him. It ate and ate until he could no longer just sit idly by. Something was telling him not to just watch from afar this time. Not with Defoe. Not with Rose.


	18. He Who Caused Her Harm

James stood and followed where Defoe and Rose had left down the corridor, the same hall that led to Rose’s quarters. There was something that was awry, and he had to make sure that his fears weren’t warranted.

Peering around the corner, he didn't see either of them. This confused him, for he hadn’t let them get too terribly far ahead of him. He wandered into the hallway, looking for any sign of where they had gone. Upon passing Will’s door, James came upon Rose’s and his heart sank. What if Rose had been growing closer to Defoe in the time they had been avoiding one another, and he just hadn’t noticed? She had befriended the other men, so this wouldn’t be out of the question…

 _That must be it,_ James convinced himself. _He has gained her affections and they both are currently within her room._

He turned away, trying to leave the pained feeling inside him behind, but he stopped in his tracks and turned back. No…that couldn’t be it. Defoe had always been boastful and aggressive towards Rose. Doubtless that he was lusting after her…she was the only woman aboard; _most_ of the men felt the same way. But Rose had always seemed perturbed by Defoe’s volatile and domineering behavior.

James approached her door, for he was worried that something far more sinister was happening inside. He tentatively knocked on the door, listening for any signs of activity inside.

“Rose?” he called.

No response.

He turned away again. If not there, where _had_ they gone? Before he quite knew what he was doing, James found himself knocking on Will’s door.

Will answered a few moments later in surprise. “Norrington? What brings you here?”

James struggled to find a suitable lie, unable to say, “I’m looking for Rose,” lest he be met with more consternation from Will. Instead, he just peered around Will into his quarters. No one was within, let alone Defoe or Rose.

“I…um…I’m looking for your father, actually,” James finally decided on. “I’m considering joining the scouting party tomorrow.”

Will raised an eyebrow skeptically. “Well, we’re still on Earth until the hurricane passes the southern tip of Florida, so there won’t be scouting for awhile yet.” He then cocked his head to the side. “Can’t you tell him that yourself? He’s aboard.”

James hadn’t considered this. “Aye,” he lied. “Couldn’t find him. I thought I’d check here.”

Will nodded. “Well, have a look around. I’ll tell him when I see him myself.” He then clapped James on the shoulder and smiled encouragingly. “I’m glad to hear that you’re expressing interest in going on the scouting missions, however. I really do want you to be a part of our team, Norrington. It’s why I brought you aboard. I owed it to you.”

James was quickly growing uncomfortable with the rare expression of friendship from Will, gave a quick smile and backed away. “Right, well, I’ll let you know then.” He then turned and left, leaving a bewildered Will behind him.

So as neither of them were in Rose or Will’s adjoining quarters, Rose and Defoe somehow must have fled someplace else, though doing so would mean that they vanished immediately upon entering the hallway. James began to search the ship, trying to track where they could have possibly stolen away to. His results were fruitless, however.

There was only one place they could be, and that was off the _Dutchman_ entirely.

James suddenly realized that Rose could be in very real danger. If Defoe accosted her, he could have grabbed her and transformed back into the wall of the ship, taking her anywhere he pleased as long as it was on Earth. The bounds were quite literally endless. James racked his brain trying to think where Defoe could have taken her. He didn’t know any personal details about him, like where he came from or where he desired to be. All James knew was that he had once captained a vessel before…

Wait. That was it! The day that the hurricane hit, James recalled Defoe stating that the ship James and Rose had saved was of interest to him. _Tell ya what, if I had that ship…just imagine the damage one could do…_

After Rose had saved that ship and her entire crew with her powers, the _Dutchman_ moved along, skirting the hurricane’s path to collect the other souls it took. James remembered the vessel, however, and considered it worth a shot to see if what he feared was true.

Thinking on the ship, James closed his eyes and backed into the nearest wall of the _Dutchman._ Instantly, he transformed onto the forecastle deck of the broken and weather-weary ship, which was currently without a mast as a result of the storm. James was taken aback by the steady rainfall that he was immediately surrounded by, but quickly got his bearings and scanned the deck of the ship. He felt his stomach churn upon seeing Rose, struggling, gagged, wrists bound, and standing nearby where the mast was broken off at the base. Her entire body suddenly jerked away from the base towards the center of the ship, and James’s eyes traced down her form to see a chain that wrapped around her waist. This chain, however, wasn’t tethered to just one spot on the deck, but instead broke off into six chains which branched from her like spokes on a wheel, keeping her completely unable to move from her spot on the deck. This was clearly to prevent her from being able to meld into the wall of this ship and flee back to the _Dutchman._

James instinctively rushed to free her, but stopped entirely and took refuge behind the forecastle deck’s railing upon seeing Defoe approach her. Unseen, James watched as Defoe stalked her like prey, grinning maliciously.

“Welcome aboard!” he said to her, arms stretched out wide. When she only glared at him, continuing to struggle against her bondage, he said, “There’s no use in fighting, lass. We’re going to be here awhile.” He came very close to her, whispering, “And I’m going to need to ensure that you do exactly as I say.”

Defoe swung around, examining the broken mast. “We’re not going to get anywhere with this,” he said, “At least not without a crew. But that can wait for the time being because I have _you,_ don’t I?” He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and took her by the chin to move her face towards him. “But with that lil’ demonstration in saving this very ship the other week, I daresay you can turn the tides in my favor to get enough leagues behind me and Turner.”

James’s eyes went wide at this. So _that_ was Defoe’s plan; He wanted to flee Will’s command, retaining his own immortality and sailing the seas doing whatever he pleased. With Rose, Will would be powerless to catch him. She could keep the ship in motion, as well as turn them against the _Dutchman._ They key was actually _getting_ her on his side, and his solution was abducting her and making her do his bidding by force.

Defoe leaned towards her face so that he was only inches away. “So? Get her moving. Show me what ya can do.”

Rose just stared defiantly back at him. Enraged, Defoe slapped her across the face. James jumped with a start, and was ready to leap into action when Rose turned back, cheek purple as she shouted incoherently through her gag. She kept doing so until Defoe loosened it and pulled it down around her neck.

“And what will you do if I refuse? _Kill_ me?” she spat. “Do your _worst._ We’re undead, you fool!”

Defoe only snickered, then pulled a dagger out of its sheath on his belt. Slowly, he began to lift up the skirt of her dress, and she continued to struggle away from him before he swiftly stabbed her in her lower thigh. James’s blood ran cold as Rose’s screamed out in pain.

“ _That’s_ what I’ll do,” he growled, twisting the blade deeper and deeper into her leg before pulling it out. “Death, no. Pain? Absolutely.”

James knew that Rose would heal, but her winces in pain were excruciating. He unsheathed his sword, preparing to leap over the railing and down onto the deck when he heard Rose say quietly, “Alright. I’ll do it.” She looked up at him, saying plaintively, “But I can’t do it with my hands bound.”

He gave a skeptical look, but began to untie the rope that was holding her wrists taught. Rose then nodded slowly and took a deep breath, readying herself to perform her powers. However, she then spread her arms out wide and tensed her fingers, causing the sea around them to thrash about violently. Rose sent a violent pattern of sharp streams of seawater whipping violently around them from all areas surrounding the vessel. James ducked behind the forecastle railing to avoid them himself, covering his head with his arm for protection, but he still felt the sting of the streams as they flew past. He couldn’t help but feel pride when he saw how resistant she was to Defoe’s objectives. She clearly wasn’t going to go down without a fight. His eyes narrowed as he looked through the railing to see what was going on below.

Though behind hit left and right from the streams, Defoe had regained his footing, and with his arms bracing his face against the impact of the water, he was slowly gaining on Rose. She saw this and tensed her arms even more, raising them up, which caused the streams to grow so violent, James almost couldn’t make them out.

Everything stopped, however, when Defoe lunged out and grabbed Rose by her wrists, causing her powers to stop entirely. He raised them up forcefully, cursing at her insolence. He then began to bend her hands backward with the obvious intent to break both wrists. It was when she cried out in pain that Norrington leapt into action, leaping over the railing and landing onto the main deck, sword pointed at Defoe’s back.

“Let her _go!_ ” he said, voice shaking in anger.

Defoe released pressure on her wrists, though still he held them. Rose instantly looked to James, eyes wide and looking relieved that he was there. James’s gaze leapt from Rose to Defoe, struggling between his urge to help her and utterly destroy him.

Defoe only chuckled at James’s stance, reaching down calmly and refastening Rose’s wrists together as he said calmly, “And what do ya expect to do with that sword, Norrington?”

James only tensed himself further. “You said it yourself; I can’t kill you, but I can certainly cause you pain.”

Now that Rose was once again powerless against her bondage, Defoe was able to fully turn towards him, eyebrows raised. “And what good would it be to torture _me_? With her, I get a means of transport. Power. Ya can’t do a thing to me.”

James’s heart was pounding in his chest as he realized that he was right, though he kept his sword level to Defoe’s chest. “What’s stopping me from going and retrieving Turner right now, now that I know right where to find you?”

Defoe laughed wickedly, turning back to Rose. He examined her a moment, then stroked one of her cheeks with his fingertips, causing her to squirm in disgust. He then shot a look over his shoulder back at James. “Do it…and I’ll hurt her. You’ll return just in time to find it already done.”

James’s face fell, and he was clearly distraught by the threat. Defoe’s eyes then glinted in amusement. “Ahh, I see the talkings around deck be true, then!” he cried. “You _do_ fancy the sea witch.” Rose’s eyes instantly met James’s, and he instantly avoided her questioning gaze in embarrassment. Defoe continued, now stroking Rose’s hair, “She’s mine one way or the other, Norrington. The choice is yers, though. Leave now, and ne’er return, and forget about ‘er. Or, make some ill-fated attempt at a rescue, and you’ll get to see just what’s become of your bonny lass once I have a go at her.”

“That’s enough!” James cried, stepping closer to Defoe.

“You must be truly desperate,” Defoe snidely remarked, maintaining composure. “We all know of yer past with Turner’s wife. And yet ya still try your hand with the gypsy. One last chance at companionship.”

“ENOUGH!” James shouted.

Defoe swiftly kicked his sword up from where it lay at his feet on the ground and squared off against Norrington, beginning to push him across deck and cornering him. “Eager to share the warm bed of _any_ female, so you figured this one would do?”

Rose watched in horror as Defoe’s cruel words began to take hold in James’s mind. His arm quivered, and she watched as his cutlass slowly grew slack in his hand.

“Did it get terribly lonesome out there in the Locker, Norrington?” Defoe chided, throwing these insults at him one after another mercilessly. “Bet ya got so used to the isolation, you couldn’t control yerself once a lass came aboard. No matter or not if she’s a gyp, eh, Navy traitor? Lustin’ for one of her kind—bet that would do the family proud! It’ll be sad to see another one escape yer reach, but don’t worry…I’ll take _good_ care of her-“

Rose stopped listening, instead focusing solely upon how hurt she felt upon seeing how quickly these words could destroy a man as strong as James. His vacant expression and short, staggered breathing pained her, and she found herself instinctively shouting out, “I’ll stay!”

Both men turned and looked at her. She swallowed her apprehension and steadily stated, “If I stay with you and help you, will you let him go?”

James was shaken out of his trance by her bargain, and sidestepped around Defoe, moving towards her. “Rose, no!”

Defoe grinned, keeping in pace with James. “I would love to, lass, but you see how I can’t do that, can ya?”

Rose’s eyes went wide. “You’re…not going to let him return to the _Dutchman_?”

Defoe cocked his head to the side. “Can’t, can I? We both know he’ll tell Turner regardless, and I’m not about to lose me chance at freedom.” He considered for a moment, then exclaimed, “I’ve got it! I recall a certain little nighttime chat between you and the crew where you told of Calypso’s maelstrom that sent her back to the Locker.” He dropped his expression and said stoically, “Send your Romeo there.”

Rose quickly exchanged a glance with James, but he looked just as uncertain of what to do next as she felt. She had no idea if that was even _possible,_ let alone the fact that she would never dream of doing that to another person. But what choice did she have?

James’s heart sank as he heard her tell Defoe, “I’ll do it. Just don’t harm him.”

Defoe approached her, untying her wrists once more, but holding them firmly close to him, warning, “No funny business this time. You do _exactly_ as I say, or you’ll pay.”  
Rose looked earnestly up at him. “I promise, I won’t.” She then turned her gaze on James, her eyes lingering there for a moment. Before he quite knew what was happening, all of a sudden Rose began to hyperventilate, her breath growing rapid as she bent down, hands on her knees in a struggle to regain oxygen.

“What’s this?” Defoe shouted angrily. “Get up!”

“I’m…just feeling…lightheaded,” she gasped.

“Rose?” James asked concernedly, rushing to her side. As soon as he was but a few inches away, she looked up at him, revealing that she was completely fine. Suddenly, James realized what was happening; Rose had done this very action once before as a ruse to throw him off her game. They exchanged a knowing glance, and James immediately knew what was coming next.

In one perfectly timed moment, James threw his body entirely around Rose’s, embracing her as tightly as he could. Rose, meanwhile, used every ounce of her energy to summon churning waves to blast the deck of the ship. As she was chained from six different points, she and James were completely stationary as gallons upon gallons of water sloshed on the deck, blowing a completely unprepared Defoe right off his feet. This sent him careening into the portside railing, where he was repeatedly met with Rose’s crushing seawater. She kept this steady spray going for quite some time, then finally released, letting all remaining water slosh on and over the deck.

James released his hold on her, though he pushed her sopping yet hair out of her eyes and cupped her face with his hands. “Are you alright?”

“Yes!” she cried, breathless. He then reached down and untied her wrists again, then raced towards Defoe’s body, quickly examining it. He was bleeding profusely from the intensity of the blast, but couldn’t die, and was therefore rendered unconscious for the time being. James then rushed to loosen the chains from the six points around the deck. She embraced him tightly as soon as she was freed, though she was shaking. “I…I don’t know what to do…” she said, voice trembling.

He pulled away to look her in the eyes. “ _You_ don’t have to do anything,” he said firmly. “What you did was already more than enough. That blast was enough to kill a mortal man, so he’ll be out for awhile. We’ll take him back to the _Dutchman_ before he comes to, you get Turner, and _I_ will sort this out, alright?”

But Rose, upon hearing him say the words, “enough to kill a mortal man,” had tears well up in her eyes. She broke free of him and rushed to the starboard side of the ship, whispering, “No, no, no…”

James raced after her. “What is it?” he asked.

Her eyes scanned the waves. “The survivors,” she whispered. “There were four of them at work onboard here once we arrived.” She then let the tears fall as she said softly, “He said he would kill them himself if I didn’t use my powers to blast them off the deck, and…I had no choice. At least they stood one chance of survival if I…” Her voice trailed as she thought back on what she had been forced to do.

James then began scanning the waters. He then breathed a sigh of relief as he said, “No, look!” He pointed to a few specks that were bobbing towards the island’s harbor. “You didn’t kill them—they’re fleeing! You saved them.”

Rose squinted, counting out four dark specks on the water. Indeed, they were the men from the ship swimming for their lives. “Oh thank god,” she said, trying to calm her breathing. “I was so certain I had hurt them.”

He grabbed her by the shoulders. “You did nothing wrong,” he said. “We’re going to bring him to justice, you understand?” He waited until she nodded before asking once more, “You’re alright?”

“Aye,” she said, voice now level once more.

He then turned and hastily made his way towards Defoe’s unconscious body. She stayed behind for a moment before racing to catch up with him, head reeling from not only the stress of what had just occurred, but the revelation that James cared for her. Part of her knew it to be true, but her mind wouldn’t let her believe it fully. She recalled how hurt he looked as Defoe repeatedly tore him apart with his words, and as she knelt down by his side before they left back for the _Dutchman,_ she asked, “James?”

“Aye?”

Her eyes searched his. “Are _you_ alright?”

He considered this for a moment, then said, “I will be, yes.”

Without another word the two of them grabbed hold of one another and Defoe, and the three transformed back to the _Dutchman._


	19. Justice

James, Rose, and Defoe’s body arrived in the same hallway where Rose and Defoe had gone missing in the first place.

James and Rose stood, and he instructed her, “Go find Will and bring him here. I’ll stay behind to make sure this bastard stays put.”

Rose moved to hastily make her leave, but another person who they hadn’t noticed enter the hallway at that very moment made himself known. “What in the bloody hell is this?” said the quartermaster, who had stumbled upon what to his eyes must have been a very sinister sight; Rose and James standing over a beaten and bloodied Defoe. The quartermaster’s eyes shined with rage as he pointed to James. “You,” he growled. “This has gone on far enough!”

“Wait!” Rose implored. “We can explain!”

“None needed!” he snapped at her, coming straight for James. “You lot have caused nothing but trouble since allying yourselves!” He looked to Rose. “The Captain’ll be hearing about this.” Then, grabbing James by the arm, he muttered threateningly, “And it’ll be straight back to the Locker for _you,_ Norrington.”

“Stop it!” cried Rose. “Just _listen_ to what happened!”

“I’ve heard far enough!” replied the quartermaster, beginning to reach for Rose as well.

James meanwhile only rolled his eyes and pried himself loose from his grasp, laying a blow on him directly to the jaw. The quartermaster instantly retaliated, drawing his sword, and James did as well before crying back to Rose, “GO! Get Turner!”

Rose however, pulled her own weapon as a duel began and leapt straight into battle. Fighting alongside him, they began to corner their opponent in one end of the hallway. James then thrust his sword in front of one of the quartermaster’s blows towards Rose, keeping it steady. That gave him enough time to turn to her and say, “Please go! I can fend him off long enough for you to get Turner here!”

She shook her head, placing her own blade in the standoff and pushing against the quartermaster’s force. “I’m not leaving you here! Not until he listens to reason.”

That was never to be, however, as suddenly, the quartermaster freed his blade, ducking low and stabbing James in the side. He gasped in pain.

“James!” Rose cried out.

He turned to her, “Go!” he pleaded once more.

Finally, she conceded. This had spiraled rapidly out of their control. She looked back one last time to see the quartermaster grab James by the neck and lead him out to the main deck. She then increased her speed despite the pain from her still-healing leg wound, rushing through the hall to the doors of Will’s quarters and bursting inside.

The Captain was hovering nearby as Coats sat at his desk, examining the makeshift maps they were conceiving of the extent of the Locker.

"Will!" she exclaimed. His head jerked up with alarm at her tone. She went straight to the point: “There’s trouble on deck.”

“What?” he asked, rushing to her side.

“Defoe abducted me. James and I bested him together, but the quartermaster now has James in a skirmish! We have to stop it!”

Without a word, he rushed past her out the door, and she followed suit, right on his heels. They together ran the length of the corridor, but stopped midway when they heard the chilling sound of the snap of a whip. Will and Rose exchanged a bewildered glance. They continued along at a brisk pace until they passed the doorway to the main deck, when the scene opened up with every man having abandoned their work, and instead facing inward, backs to them.

_Snap!_

Rose’s heart stopped when she knew instantly what was happening. With absolute horror, Rose shoved through the crowd and dove headfirst through the last few of the crew who were blocking her path.

 _Snap!_ There the quartermaster stood whip in hand, aided by two others who held out his outstretched arms. There James stood, shirtless, back now dripping with blood.

 _Snap!_ He yelled out in agony. Rose's anger got the better of her. Without thinking, she raised her hands and swung them at the quartermaster. A stream of seawater from the port side flew quicker than a diving gull and swiped the whip from the quartermaster's hand, sending it flying across the deck and him scurrying after it.

She sent two more streams into the eyes of the two attendants who held James, causing them to recoil and lose their grip. James crumpled, yelling out in anguish as he immediately fell to the deck. She ran to his side, aiding him on his journey down as he leaned on her right side. By the time they were safely seated, the quartermaster had found his whip once more, and by the time Rose turned around, he was already poised to strike at both of them.

"Insolence!" he cried.

Rose shoved her right hand forward and sent a water shield spurting in order to deflect it.

"Stop!" exclaimed Will, having finally reached the front. "Quartermaster, at ease!"

“Sir, I discovered James standing over the body of Defoe, who was completely unconscious!” he cried. “Clearly, he had attacked him!”

"We do not reprimand like this!” Will shouted. “That was Jones's policy, _not_ mine. You will throw that vile thing overboard at once!"

Rose didn't watch any of this take place. Her attention was solely on James. His arm was draped around her for support, and he sullenly looked up at her. Then pain overtook him and his attention was back on the ground as he winced. She then examined the damage. These wounds were not just scratches— they were deep wounds that would have taken months to heal on a mortal. For the undead, wounds took much longer to heal, and while never creating any fatal consequences, they certainly did not exclude limitations of physical discomfort or pain. Rose had witnessed much cruelty in her life, but never such brutality. The skin had been sliced open by force nearly down to ribs and spine. This was not the normal force in which someone whipped another.

Suddenly, rage took the place of fear and protectiveness. The seas began to churn, rocking the ship violently as Rose stood, exclaiming, “Defoe kidnapped me while you _all_ failed to realize it! The only one who came to my aid was James! We brought Defoe back here for judgement! And instead, you assume it was _James_ who hurt _him?”_ She looked in disbelief over the entirety of the crew, Will included. _“_ Why do you all hate him so? What has he done to you besides keep to himself? This is immoral!”

Rose’s fury materialized in the form of sea mist beginning to rise and swirl around the ship. Will put his hands up. “Let’s all be at ease, now,” he said calmly. “Let’s move away from here and sort this out.”

“There’s nothing to sort out!” she protested. “He tried to assault me and James did _nothing_ wrong!”

“He’s a Navy traitor, ain’t he?” a nondescript voice from the back of the crew shouted out.

The skies began to reel with dark, billowing clouds as a wind began to pick up. “He’s not a traitor,” she growled.

The quartermaster stepped closer to her. “Someone really needs to teach you when to hold yer tongue.”

“That’s enough! Both of you!” Will shouted over the wind that grew ever stronger.

Rose’s eyes gleamed in violent rage at the quartermaster. “I’d step away if I were you.”

The knave leaned ever closer, saying under his breath so only Rose could hear him, “Really? And what are you going to do about it?” he goaded.

Now, this is where the narrative becomes a bit blurry, and no one's account that they have given me has been able to accurately describe what exactly happened next, so I will try to piece together what exactly occurred based on several different witness's testimonies. Rose must have lost consciousness, because next thing she knew, the men were pressed against the side rails of the ship, leaving the quartermaster alone in the middle of them, doubled over, conscious but bleeding profusely from his nose. Allegedly and according to several eye witnesses including James and Will, Rose said nothing to his response, and only stared blankly at him. She stayed firmly planted in place, still as a statue. Water from all directions attacked Defoe, slicing open his skin as they zipped and whipped past him. The men fled to a safe distance.

It was James who shook her out of it. "Rose!" he cried. The water knives had only begun, only grazing the quartermaster's face.

"Don't make things worse by stooping to their level, Rose!" commanded Will. She nodded slowly, having no idea what she had done. But she could see that some action had been taken, and her priorities once again returned to James, still huddled on the ground.

"What...was that?" he muttered.

She looked at him earnestly. “I am not certain."

In all of the excitement, no one had noticed that Bootstrap had returned with his scouting party.

"What in the blazes?" Bootstrap cried out to Will, descending from the helm. Looking around, she could only imagine how bizarre this must have all appeared; James bloodied and torn into pieces, to his right, the quartermaster, who was covered in cuts and scrapes, his nose having nearly been taken off.

A steady rain began to fall around them, and Rose stayed in place as the two injured men around her were picked up and taken below deck. She looked down at her hands.

 _'Dere be a touch of destiny aboud you, Rose Hexfury,_ Tia Dalma’s voice rang in her ears from a nearly fourteen year old prophecy. _Ye will gain more power dan any man can ever dream of possessin’._

“The power of the seas,” Rose whispered.


	20. Hurt and Lost Together

Will naturally wanted decorum on board his ship, and wanted to administer justice in the most equal way possible. So he had his men take the four of them, the quartermaster, Defoe, James, and Rose, and isolate them and guard them. Defoe was taken to the brig, the quartermaster was guarded at the helm, Rose was isolated in her room, and James was taken first into Will's quarters, where Will asked him what exactly occurred in his own words. After, Will called Rose into his quarters.

James was hunched over, his usually perfect posture marred by the pain, his shirt bloodstained and tattered. Rose instinctively wanted to treat him, but kept her distance. "He needs medical care," Rose said.

"They all do," Will reasoned. "And you will administer the care to _all_ of them because you caused this. Understood?"

Rose nodded, though she internally disagreed. James looked at her, his eyes heavy with exhaustion. Rose winced at his weak demeanor. "I suggest we move him to my quarters, where I can properly attend to him."

Will had no problem in permitting this, but he had something else far more important to say. “Now before I dismiss Norrington and get your side of the story, Rose,” he began, “I need to apologize to the both of you.”

Both James and Rose were confused and very interested in this unexpected turn of events. Silently, they allowed Will to continue.

Will drew his attention to Rose, finally telling her at least a portion of what had happened when Rose was first taken to the Locker. He explained how Calypso had spoken with him privately, healing and transforming Rose in the meantime. He told them how Calypso had warned him that one of his men would cause Rose great harm, and because of James’s history, he naturally assumed that he was this prophesied troublemaker. He limited Rose’s duties to keep her safe, and threatened James several times to not approach her. So certain was Will in his prediction that he completely ignored all of the dangerous signs of Defoe’s behavior.

“Please forgive me,” Will said to both of them. “I completely misjudged the situation, and it has caused you both immense pain and danger.”

“I’m fine,” Rose said, “Thanks to the help of Mr. Norrington.”

She looked over at him, but his tired eyes stared blankly at the ground. It was clear he was just barely conscious enough to listen to what was going on around him. Will and Rose exchanged a concerned glance, then rushed to find a few men who could help James get situated in Rose’s quarters.

When they were alone, Will began the process of getting a statement from Rose. "Now," he began, "I understand that Defoe attacked you. I do not expect you to give him medical aid in person, as I have yet to decide what to do with him. I still need to hear his and the quartermaster's accounts. However, you will provide the care they need and supply one of the men to give it to them. I cannot have it any other way."

Rose nodded, then plaintively stated, “Don’t punish James any further. He did nothing wrong.”

"I know. He was only trying to protect you," Will said. "And honestly, thank God he was there. However, I still need your side of the story."

Rose gave it, without interruption, and when she had finished, Will nodded and quietly asked her to leave. She returned to her chamber, where there was still a man stationed outside, but she was permitted to close the door. Inside, James stood uncomfortably in the center of the room, uncertain of where to go.

There was nothing to be said. Rose felt so incredibly sorry for him. She helped him out of his shirt and onto her bed, where he laid face down, allowing for her to closely examine the wounds. She had a few poultices on her belt, but she ached to be back at her station on Shipwreck Cove, where she had unlimited access to nearly every herb she could fathom. He winced when she applied a mixture into the cuts, but soon his breathing relaxed into a normal state, though he still found it difficult to speak.

“You…asked me what I meant…when…I said this was ‘painful enough as it is,’” he managed to say. “I think…I can honestly say that this is _precisely_ what…I meant.”

She closed her eyes and gave a slight sigh of relief that he was still his same, sarcastic self. "Shh. Don't push yourself."

"I'm fine," he said. “Are _you_ alright?"

"I'm fine."

His eyes grinned. " _Liar_ ," he whispered, smiling.

She smiled back. "We're one in the same now.”

“What…liars?”

She gave a small laugh. “Well, yes. But I mean to say that now we've _both_ been injured at the hands of the other.”

He gave a small nod as his eyelids grew heavier. After a time, he muttered, “You’re better.”

“What?” Rose asked, not fully hearing him.

“You…said that you were as good as any man here. You’re not. You’re _better._ ”

Rose’s heart fluttered at this, but she still felt so conflicted by his affection. All she could do was put her hand over his reassuringly. Shortly thereafter, he fell asleep. Rose watched over him for a time, but soon grew exhausted herself. She crossed the room to her hammock and crawled inside, swaying back and forth with the rocking of the ship and the sound of his breathing.

* * *

When she woke up, James was gone. It was already morning, and Rose had slept for over twelve hours because of the chaos of the previous day. When she saw he was gone, she immediately went out the door. The guard outside her door was gone as well. She first went to the second deck, where the men slept in case James had simply returned to his own quarters, but there was no one to be found.

She finally found him upon going outside, where she realized that the ship had since returned back to the Locker. He was in a chain working line, helping to hoist a sail she had repaired a few days before. He wore a new shirt and his jacket, having abandoned the ruined one from the day before. Rose went to him and grabbed him by the arm. He turned, and his appearance shocked her. His face was no less haggard or weary, though his demeanor was as if nothing had transpired.

"What are you doing?" Rose asked. "You are nowhere near well enough to be back at work. Come back with me!"

He shook his head. "No, I feel much better. You've already troubled yourself too much."

"I'm not a fool, James," Rose said. "Come with me." She led him back to her chamber, though he protested the entire journey.

"I assure you, I'm fine. I feel healthier. I'm on the mend," he had said.

"Take off your jacket," was all that Rose responded with once they were safely inside her quarters once more.

He took a deep breath. "I'm fine," he said again.

"Then, you should be able to take off your jacket."

He begrudgingly did so, revealing the dark red stains on the back of his shirt. Rose gasped. "You call this fine? The wounds opened up again! Take off that shirt."

He obeyed, wincing as the bloodied shirt peeled off his injured back. Rose led him back to her bed. Once she had settled and worked to reapply the poultice the the wounds, she said softly, "Now if we are to be civil to each other, I must lay down a rule— No more lies."

He grunted in agreement, then said after a moment, "Will came to a decision this morning. About Defoe. He sent him to the Locker. That was the first he's ever sent. I was not about to miss that bastard being sent off. He tried to take Will with him though.”  
“What?”

“He attacked. Will’s currently nursing a nasty chest wound that I would take a look at if I were you. Defoe made the same deadly mistake I did, forgetting that the Captain doesn’t have a heart in his chest to stab. I would have woken you, but—”

“That’s alright,” Rose said. She understood the severity of that punishment. "How's Will taking it?" she asked.

"Not well. He feels like he's becoming like Jones." James began to get furious. "But what Defoe did was absolutely deplorable, I—" In his rage, he started to sit up.

"Shh," Rose said, settling him down. "I know what he did."

He looked at her as though he was trying to read her. "He didn't... truly _hurt_ you, did he?"

"No," she said, smiling. "You got there just in time.”

James let her work in silence, although his breathing had increased along with his heart rate. There were words he needed to say, and for some reason, he knew it was now or never.

He reached his hand backwards, gently taking hold of one of her wrists and stopping her movements. She looked at him in confusion as he slowly pushed himself up to a seated position, and he motioned for her to sit next to him. As soon as she was settled, he said, “I can’t help but make a note of how we appear to have reached some parallelism between past and present.”

Rose gave a small smile, absolutely wracked with anxiety over what the next few moments were sure to bring. “What do you mean?”

“Port Royal. You were attacked and I dressed your wounds. You confessed your feelings that night.” Rose felt flushed with embarrassment at the memory, and with eyes averted, listened to him continue with, “Now I’ve been attacked, you’ve dressed my wounds…” He swallowed back apprehension as he said quietly, “And now I…I’m afraid I must confess _my_ feelings.”

Rose’s eyes went wide. He was going to come clean about his emotions once and for all, and she was wholly unprepared for it. She didn’t say a word, only listening and waiting intently, so James proceeded with, “I never thought I would see you again. But that day when Elizabeth brought you onboard..." His voice trailed off, then he locked eyes with her directly. "I wanted to do anything to keep you alive. To keep you out of that hell you were living in. And when you recovered and were yourself again, all I could see when I looked at you was that night.” He shook himself from the memory and looked earnestly at her. “I promise you, although I did deceive you, I never anticipated your affections. I was jarred by it, having always been the pursuer, never the pursuit. And when I saw you here…I thought there might be hope for me yet. And not this…this great void of—“

“Loneliness,” Rose finished. “I know that feeling all too well.”

James nodded. “But with Turner’s looming threats hanging over my head to stay away from you, which I truly could not have cared less about, honestly, and then your revelation that everything you felt for me was a mistake…”

“So _that’s_ what caused you to be so cold towards me,” Rose realized. “You must understand, I didn’t mean—“

“It’s alright,” James said. “You said what you meant, and I was wrong to judge you for it. But truly, your words were a painful reminder of what I could never have. A reminder of _who_ I am.”

Rose furrowed her brow. “Who?”

He took a deep breath. “You once told me that I could be the hero of my story. Well, that isn't the case. You were right; I _am_ the villain.” He stared down at his hands as he continued, “I felt unworthy of happiness, even in death. And the notion of spending the better part of century in the midst of a constant reminder of my shortcomings in the form of you sounded like an existence more tortuous than what I experienced in the Locker. That’s why I was cold to you, and for that I’m sincerely apologetic.”

She leaned forward towards him, trying to comfort the pain he was feeling. She was so torn; A large part of her was flattered and floored by his confession, and was eager to return his affections once again, but another part of her worried that these were the false emotions arising again. She knew that there was only one way to combat the weakness.

“James,” she said, waiting for him to look at her before she proceeded. “When I said that what I expressed to you back then was a false and a mistake, I meant it.”

At this, James shifted uncomfortably and looked away, jaw tight. Rose drew her arm towards him and laid a hand on his cheek to turn his head towards her. “No, wait. Listen to me,” she said calmly. “I meant it. I was hurt and alone and scared back then. I was insecure and unstable. You showed me kindness…and that’s all it took to utterly confuse my mind. It wasn’t real.”

His jaw tightened even more, and he let out a rapid sigh, shifting his position as if to stand and dart out her door. “I understand,” he said, voice tense. “Forget I said anything. I’ll—“

“Let me finish, _please!_ ” she begged him, holding fast to his arm. “However,” she continued once he resignedly put his full attention on her once more, her voice barely above a whisper, “It’s not too late for my feelings to blossom again. But this time, genuinely. Slowly. Naturally. In a time when I am fully in control of myself and can commit to getting to know you fully.”

James pulled back from her touch. “No, absolutely not,” he said, voice elevated in upset.

Rose’s stomach dropped. “What do you mean? James…”

His breathing was heavy again, though he did not give the impression of being angry in the slightest. “I’ve already been a consolation prize once, and I have no interest in being one again.”

“Consolation prize?”

“Elizabeth accepted my marriage proposal because she thought it her only choice. I don’t want your affections if they aren’t sincere. I couldn’t take it again.”

“James, this _is_ my choice, and I make it in all sincerity. I want to know you. I want to see if we could make a life out of this. A life in death, but a life nonetheless.”

He slowly looked up, eyes filled with apprehension. "I don't deserve this," he said.

Her heart beat still faster. "What don't you deserve?"

"A happy ending."

"Of course you do," she whispered. "We are wicked in our own ways and good in others. What you did for me was _good._ What you did for Elizabeth was _good._ You are more alive now than you ever were when you were living."

And with that, he leaned into her and kissed her. All of Rose's thoughts and fears ceased to be, and were replaced by a sudden, existential joy.

They separated, opening their eyes. They entered the night as islands, separated by pain and uncertainty, and parted as one.


	21. Yes, I'm a Bit Nervous Myself

Rose woke up at what appeared to be the middle of the night, as all sounded still and calm above her bed on deck. Were it morning, she would hear the creaks and moans of the waterlogged floorboards. She woke up out of fear, just as she had for many mornings now. Fear that when she awoke, the past eleven months would all be a dream; That her powers, having been fully revealed in all their glory to Will, would not be the vessel’s main source of power and influence across the seven seas, that her status among the crew would not be elevated beyond her wildest imaginings, and that James would be but an illusion, a fantasy of some memory from long ago.

But after a moment of panic, Rose looked at her surroundings, and breathed a sigh of relief that in fact all of these wonderful things _had_ come to pass.

Her mind was aflutter, but as soon as she let the many thoughts that raced through her fall silent, she felt herself begin to drift back into sleep. After a few minutes of peace, a sharp rap at the door startled her so much that she nearly levitated out of bed. She darted for her white cotton underdress and then lunged for the latch.

"Yes?" she asked curtly, her face pressed quite close to the small opening in the door that she had allowed.

The quartermaster was waiting outside and only gulped. It was apparent that even after nearly a year since the Defoe kerfuffle, he still didn't trust Rose after she attacked him. He said curtly, "The Captain requests your presence at once."

 _Oh no._ Rose gave a brief nod in corroboration and began to close the door. Right as she went to move, he called out, eyes over her head and peering into the room, "You as well, Norrington."

Rose froze, preparing some hasty excuse or negation, but none ever came, as she felt James appear behind her. He wrapped his arm around her waist assuringly, and she let her face fall, looking at the quartermaster wide-eyed to gauge his reaction. His brow was furrowed and his eyes incredulous, while James's demeanor was nearly the opposite. He beamed unabashedly and his eyes shined with utter glee. "Tell Turner we'll be there," he said. " _Together_." He then took the knob from Rose's hand and proceeded to close it on the quartermaster's bewildered face.

She spun around and looked up at James. "The art of subtlety is not your strong suit, is it?"

He shrugged. "Subtlety, no, but I am trained in the art of _strategy_."

Rose rolled her eyes and continued to get dressed. "Well that seems to be working _so_ well for you thus far. What is your strategy? Beyond getting us into danger!”

"We've rather accidentally landed in the perfect position,” he said, climbing back into the half of Rose’s bed he had decided was his in silent protest of the quartermaster’s demands.

She looked at him skeptically. "Do explain."

"With pleasure," he retorted. "They can never harm us again."

He was being frustratingly vague. "I say again," said she, " _Do_ explain."

"Rose, it’s been a _year. Y_ ou need not fear for my safety, nor I yours." He turned on his side, propping himself up with his elbow. ”They’ve seen what you can do. How powerful you are. And with our union, they will fear us. Or, _you._ Nobody fears me."

"Yes but," she sat back down next to him, "It isn't this simple with pirates. They might try to control my abilities through harming you. Blackmail, perhaps.”

He leaned in close to her, almost so that their foreheads were touching. He said quietly, "Let them talk. What have we got to fear?"

Rose embraced him and waited until she felt his arms wrap around her in return. She then ran her fingertips along his back where underneath a thin layer of cotton, those horrid and just barely-healed scars were concealed. He flinched at the touch. "I cannot let them hurt you again," she whispered into his ear. "If that means living behind closed doors, I will do what I must, even if it takes ninety-nine more years of secrecy.” She released him, laying a hand on the side of his face. “That's why we need to see Will regardless. Perhaps knowing and understanding where we stand…especially _now,_ will put him on alert."

Rose opened the door and led the way. He called after her, close on her heels, "Mark my words, he'll be less than pleased upon hearing about us!"

* * *

Will was less than pleased upon hearing about them. James and Rose stood before him, an awkward and uncomfortable space between both of them as they stood like guilt-ridden children before a stern parent. Will just stood between them, glowering in silence. When he finally did speak, his voice was low and accusatory.

"I would have preferred to have spoken with each of you individually. That is what I ordered. But apparently, my commands were jumbled when you two were discovered in a single setting." Rose could feel herself start to grow red. "A setting," he continued, "Which provides an answer to my first question I would have asked the both of you, but now I need not ask it."

Rose looked to James. His eyes were fixated on their captain with bristled amusement, ever challenging his authority.

“You both have made your…romance, I suppose,” Will groaned, clearly uncomfortable with the thought of his friend and foe in love, “Fairly obvious.”

Rose gave a sheepish glance to Will. It was true. Even though they had tried to be discreet, their gazes from across the deck, obvious attempts to stay away from each other during the day but stealing away to a distant corner of the ship to talk to each other by night, and James having not slept in his bunk in months were not fooling anyone.

“How long has this been going on?” Will asked.

It had been going on for nearly a year, and it progressed just as Rose wished it to. Pleasantries grew into attraction, attraction grew to intense respect, and respect developed into love. They had tried to keep their relationship a secret not only for safety, but also as not to distract from their first duty, which was to the _Dutchman._ As things progressed, however, it became clear to both James and Rose that their priorities had shifted, and their feelings had become harder to control.

“Not long,” Rose lied.

“A year,” James said simultaneously, inciting a swift glare from Rose.

Will pursed his lips. “A year.” He began to pace the room, looking at neither of them and visibly struggling to find the right words. "I...I am not particularly in favor of this union, for I only see woe coming from it."

"Ah," James piped up. "Is that because you admire Rose and despise me?" Rose nudged James, motioning him to watch his tongue.

"Not in the slightest, Norrington. Personal preference has nothing to do with this," chirped Will briskly without hesitation.

"Come now, Turner," James bristled. "Why else would you disapprove? Aren't you the primary advocate of pursuing the notion of 'true love,' despite prior _engagements_?"

Her nudge turned into more of a slap that time. Obviously, Rose's part in winning James’s heart did not alter his feelings of hostility towards Will in the slightest.

Will stalked James as though he was ready to devour him whole. “Namely, Norrington, I refer to the shirking of your duties.”

Rose’s heart dropped. She knew _exactly_ of what Will spoke. “I can explain,” she began.

“I would love to hear that,” Will said to her. “I would love to hear how you managed to completely vanish off of the _Dutchman,_ not to be found by a thorough search from myself and every man onboard for the two of you. Where did you steal away to, _without my permission?_ ”

James and Rose looked at each other, silently conversing with only their eyes. All crewmen aboard the _Dutchman_ had the ability to transport themselves from the ship to anywhere else with just the slightest bit of focus, as long as they were on Earth when they did so. It was a simple process, and the crew was not bound to the same land limitations as Will was. “Which time?” James finally asked.

Will’s jaw was set. “There was more than one time?”

Rose winced. “Yes, um…three?”

“ _THREE TIMES?!”_

Just then, the three of them heard someone enter through the doors behind them. It was Bootstrap, coming in to discuss some assortment of business with his son, but stopped in his tracks when he saw the tense standoff that was currently underway.

“Oh,” he said. “I’ll come back later.”

“No, no,” Will replied, motioning him in. “Please stay. The fun has just started.”

Bootstrap uncomfortably entered the scene and leaned against a wall near Will, facing James and Rose. He crossed his arms over his chest and stayed there as a silent onlooker.

“Rose was just about to explain why she and Norrington have been off my ship without my permission not once, not twice, but _three_ times,” Will said furiously to his father. He turned to Rose. “Proceed,” he ordered.

“Well,” she nervously began, “One time, we visited my father.”

“Teague?” Bootstrap asked from the rear of the room. “How does he fare?”

Rose grinned, “Well, thank you!” To a brooding Will, she explained, “We hadn’t seen each other since before my death, so it was good to catch up. Oh,” she said, remembering, “And James wished to reunite with him as well.”

“He saved my life when I was a child,” James explained. “I found it right to properly thank him.”

Will narrowed his eyes. “I would have granted you permission to visit had you but asked.”

James snorted. “Doubtful.”

Will glared at him. “And the other two times?”

Rose spoke up again, this time more excitedly. “Elizabeth was another time.”

Will’s face was red with anger. “You visited my wife without my knowing?” he said to James.

James grinned. “We all found it exceedingly curious that you never thought to mention to your bride and mother of your child that a significant figure from her past was serving on your crew. _Especially_ Elizabeth, who apparently asked you about me a few years back. Concerned about fidelity, Turner?”

"Is that how you consider my observed kindness toward you in letting you aboard?" Will spat.

James raised his eyebrows. “It’s not healthy to keep secrets from your spouse, Captain.”

“I don’t need spousal advice from the likes of you!” Will retorted.

“Regardless,” Rose interrupted, breaking the tension. “Elizabeth and Henry were extremely happy to see us, and they miss you dearly, of course. And,” she said, pulling out a stack of bound parchment from the pocketed folds of her skirt, “Letters from Elizabeth.” She saw Will soften a bit as she handed them to him. “She was wondering if I could serve as a liaison between you two.”

Will looked up at her, considering this. “Yes, I would like that,” he said, “But _only_ with my express permission. Understood?”

“Absolutely.”

Will’s voice lowered, and he grew closer to Rose. “How do they fare?”

“Henry has grown so much,” she said with a smile. “Looking more and more like you each day. And Elizabeth continues to astound me. Clearly, the title of King suits her well.”

This report pleased Will, but Rose wasn’t completely doing their visit justice. Elizabeth was completely beside herself at seeing her closest friend again, and then once again when it was revealed that James was not lost to her forever. The two were finally able to make full amends as Rose reunited with her beloved Henry. Then the moment came when James and Rose told Elizabeth of their affections, and she was positively floored by the notion of two parts of her life coming together in such an unexpected way. It was a beautiful time, and Rose was so pleased that Will would permit her visiting Elizabeth often to deliver letters between the two of them.

Will was satisfied at this status report of his family, but had to get back to the matter at hand. “And what of the third time you went ashore?”

Rose and James exchanged another glance, asking one another a silent question about a truth which they both were incredibly uneasy to approach with just about everyone except themselves. Despite her anxiety and apprehension, Rose gave a brief nod, then said, “Actually, that would have been the first time we went ashore. It was when James proposed. We intend to be married."

Will's jaw dropped. "Married?! Under who's authority? Certainly not mine!"

"It had better be yours!" James shouted. "You're our Captain, and you shall marry us, despite the many prejudices you carry."

Bootstrap let out a small chuckle, a hand casually concealing an amused grin as he watched this all unfold and his son become gradually more and more agitated.

“Listen to me,” Will said, trying very hard to keep his voice level, “I may have admitted to misjudging Norrington in regards to what I presumed was his dangerous nature, but that doesn’t mean I approve of him.”

“Oh tell us how you _really_ feel, Turner. Don’t hold back,” growled James sarcastically.

Rose tried once again to circumvent another verbal spar. ”I promise you, Will, and this is no falsehood; I love him." She smiled to herself after the words fell out of her mouth. _Love._ Love that she knew was shared. Love that would never leave her. Permanence. The feeling was majestic.

Will escorted her privately to the side of the room and lowered his voice. James craned his neck to listen in to their conversation, but Will was careful to block his entry.

"Rose," Will began. "This man wanted to marry Elizabeth for no true reason but status. He tried killing me many times, and your brother many more. What would Jack think about this?"

She raised her voice to include James in the exchange. "And he also saved Elizabeth. He saved me. He spared your life when he could have executed you for freeing Jack. For your many reasons to distrust him, I have just as many reasons to trust him.” With that, Rose swept to James's side, sliding her arm through his and leaning into him comfortingly.

She felt him slightly turn and kiss her forehead. A calm relief flooded through her chest as she drew closer to him. She felt his chest rise to speak again. "I thought I would never be able to...feel again. You cannot deny me this. I care not if you are the keeper of my soul. This much," he said, holding Rose tighter, "Is not in your control."

Rose held his arm steadfast, hoping she could provide enough support that he needed in that moment. She looked up at Will, who was staring at her as though carefully considering something.

"So this is where your heart truly lies?" Will asked finally.

Rose smiled. “Actually,” she said warmly, “Technically we already were wed. Years ago, in fact.”

“We were?” James asked in alarm.

Rose pulled away and looked up at him. “Tortuga. The Bride Auction. You bought me, remember?”

Suddenly, James did remember. It was the day Jack had gone on Tortuga, the same day Rose hated remembering. Rose had been disguised beneath a red wig and entered a bride auction as a diversion so Jack could have ample time and limited distractions in his quest. It had all ended badly when James, having caught up with the _Pearl_ in his pursuit, outbid Jack for Rose and held her at gunpoint to capture them both. Ultimately, Jack and Rose got away, but in fact, James _had_ been the highest bidder.

He grinned. “Indeed I did.” His gaze lingered on her for a moment, then returned to Will expectantly.

Will sighed, paused for another moment, then said to her, "A wise woman you knew well once told me that for what we want most, there is a cost that must—“

“‘Be paid in the end.’" Rose finished, reciting Calypso’s words that she knew all too well. "And we have already paid that price dearly. Lives full of misery and loss should be granted an eternity of happiness."

He blinked and nodded, “Aye, if it were but that simple.” He turned back to Bootstrap with a concerned look.

After a moment of tense silence, Bootstrap said aloud, “You have to do it now.”

James narrowed his eyes. “Do what?

“Now?” asked Will.

Bootstrap nodded. “It’s not fair otherwise.”

Will sighed and shook his head. “I knew I should have said something sooner.”

“Said what?” asked Rose.

Bootstrap shook his head, and to Will, he said, “You were under orders not to. It’s not on you.”

“What are you talking of? Speak!” cried James.

Will approached Rose, taking her hands and sitting her down in his chair. Gently and cautiously, he told her, “Rose…you aren’t dead.”

She didn’t understand his meaning. “Well, I’m certainly not alive…”

“You’re not either. Recall how your body was at war with itself when that black magic was upon you? It wanted to kill you, but your body refused to perish.”

She squinted. “What are you saying?”

“When Calypso intertwined her powers with you, she made it impossible for you to die.

James shook his head. “I don’t see what the problem is then.”

Will kept his gaze on Rose, taking a deep breath, “It means that you cannot be bound to the 100 year servitude as the dead are. We have no idea how to free you. Rose…you’re here for an eternity.”


	22. Eternity

Hadn’t it been just a week ago when the door to Rose’s room burst open and slammed shut once she and her love entered, giddy off of the sheer presence of the other? Hadn’t her laughter and his smile made up for years of anguish that they both had felt? Hadn’t his kiss made her feel more powerful than anything she could perform with seawater? Hadn’t he, in this moment of bliss, brushed a lock of her hair from her eyes and said, “Who would’ve thought that it was in death that I found a normal life?” Hadn’t it seemed normal? Hadn’t he gone on to state that he had wished during his living days to have a loving wife, sail the seas, and then, once his best days were behind him, pass along peacefully into the afterlife? Once a century had passed, they _could_ pass on together, fulfilling every aspect of his hopes. Didn’t the notion of a final resting place sounded like an absolution that they no longer feared, but accepted? Hadn’t it been that way? Hadn’t they felt like this was all destined to be?

How did they get here, then? How was it that Will had just revealed the final part of the prophecy Calypso had given him? She had informed him that when she gave Rose her locket, not only did Rose consent to the endowment of her powers, but also immortality when the goddess was freed from her human form so that it would be impossible for any future man to bind her back into a singular, mortal entity ever again. Now with her form split into a figurative source in the Locker and a literal source in the form of Rose, Rose could not die, she would not age, and she would possess Calypso’s skills. But without the pieces of eight and with Calypso’s influence limited, there was no way for Rose to be freed. She wasn’t dead. She never was nor ever would be. Rose wasn’t bound to the _Dutchman._ She could go ashore any time she liked, and not even come back if she so chose. It was Calypso who had informed Will that she would be a valuable asset on his crew, but Rose nevertheless retained the ability to leave whenever she wished. Indeed, the mastery of her powers had helped the crew immensely, and she was proving herself to be said valuable asset with every passing day, but never was she obligated to do any of it.

James had 95 years of service left onboard the vessel. Rose, before learning all of this, assumed she had 99. It was James’s original plan to prolong his service for four years until Rose was free to go, and then they would pass into death together. Now came the revelation that this would never happen, at least not until they could find a way to free Rose, which was extremely unlikely. Calypso was powerless in her Tia Dalma form to free herself, just as powerless as she was to bind herself. She could only split apart her form, not undo it.

It was a good thing Will had had Rose sit down before he broke the news, because she felt utterly destroyed. She had looked up at James when the truth had come out, and he looked clearly crestfallen.

Rose’s eyes were distant and unfocused as she murmured, “I get to spend a century with the man I love…only to lose him for the rest of time.” She looked at Will. “Why would she do this to me? I was her protege. Why would Calypso punish me so?”

“I’m not sure she knew,” Will said sadly.

James stood by her side and firmly grasped her shoulder. “And why would you say _nothing?”_ he muttered to Will and Bootstrap furiously.

“He couldn’t,” Bootstrap explained. “She was already the only woman aboard. Drawing attention to her immortality and power would only put her at greater risk for ‘the one who would bring her harm.’ Calypso told us to not say a word.”

Will shifted to peer into Rose’s eyes. “She wanted you here though. The sea and the _Dutchman_ were always meant to work in tandem. That’s you and me. You just…can’t be bound here.”

There was only silence. No one knew what to say, but there was a general air of despair in the room. James and Rose’s impending marriage, which should have been a joyous occasion, was now laced with a bitter taste.

Rose’s eyes filled with tears as an idea suddenly came to her. She laid a hand atop James’s hand, looked up at him, and asked, “My darling, would you please give me some time alone with Will and Bootstrap?”

He looked down at her and saw how upset she was. “No,” he said simply. “I want to be at your side.”

“I’m begging you, James. Please.”

“What must you say to them that cannot be said in front of me?” Rose didn’t answer him, so he proceeded with, “I’m staying right here.”

Her breathing became staggered and shallow as she turned back to Will, fighting back tears. “Can you free him?”

“What?” James cried.

“Will you free him?” she asked again, grasping Will’s hands in hers. “After our wedding, please. Could you do that? I’ll take his years and all his tasks. I’ll more than cover it with the time I have, but will you just let him have peace?”

“Excuse me?” James asked incredulously, moving around the chair and kneeling down in front of his fiancee. “No,” he stated firmly. “I’m sorry, Rose, but I get a say in my own fate this time around, and you are to suggest no such thing.”

She couldn’t hold the tears back anymore, and her voice broke when as she protested, “You deserve peace! We’ve had a year of happiness. Please, I can’t…I can’t lose you after 100 years together. And you deserve peace after all you’ve endured. We’ll wed, then you can have your deliverance.”

James shook his head in disbelief. “And you? You live out an eternity alone and miserable? I won’t have it.”

“Rose, listen to me,” Will said somberly. “Take it from a man who knows; This is not the way. 100 years is at least 80 more than Elizabeth and I will ever get. You must love what little time you have to the absolute most of your ability.”

But could she stand it? By the time James’s service would be up, Elizabeth, Teague, Henry, Jack…all of them would be long gone. To lose her husband as well, then spend forever trying to rebuild some sort of normalcy once more, and to not think of her lost loved ones from the past? Rose had overcome much physical, mental, and emotional anguish over the course of her life. She knew she was easily an incredibly strong woman. But not even she was convinced she was strong enough to face forever entirely on her own.

James’s gaze was fixated on Rose as these thoughts swirled through her mind. Seeing her so distraught pained him greatly, and he racked his brain to turn her tears into the smile he treasured so much. Suddenly, an idea occurred to him.

“Bootstrap!” James said, turning to him. “Your son set you free upon becoming the Captain, did he not?”

“Aye,” Bootstrap said.

“But you elected to forgo your freedom, correct?”

Rose saw where this was going. She stood and reached out for him. “James, no!”

He looked back at her. Kindly, he protested, “This isn’t a negotiation.” To Will, he asked, “May I prolong my service, Captain?”

Rose was adamant.“James, this isn’t the—“

“Yes,” Will corroborated. “You can stay on as long as you wish. That is, given as long as you remain in good standing with your superiors,” he said pointedly.

“Not a problem,” James retorted.

“Please,” Rose begged, absolutely beside herself now, “Think before you promise yourself—“

James pulled her into his embrace, holding her tight. “I don’t need to, my love,” he said softly. “How could I possibly rest in peace knowing your anguish outlives me? If you’ll have me, I’ll be at your side. Always.” He took her chin in his hand, pulling upwards so that she was looking up at him as he brushed away a tear. “At least until we find a way to free you. But we have many years to figure that out.”

She buried her head in his chest, feeling utterly overwhelmed. She didn’t completely agree with his decision to forgo his freedom, but she could not have felt more loved in that moment.

Will watched in silent wonder at what he had just witnessed. He never knew James to be so moved by someone else as to make such a massive sacrifice for their sake, nor had he ever seen Rose so emotionally connected to anyone as she was with James.

After a moment, Will interjected gently, “Give me two weeks to sort some business out.” James and Rose looked up at their captain. He grinned and said, “Then I’ll marry you two.”

He then dismissed them, giving them the day to sort out their emotions and further discussions about the many thousands of years in their future. After they had gone, hand in hand, Will collapsed into his chair, head in his hands. Bootstrap came around the other side of his desk, leaning across it.

“Well,” Will sighed deeply, “That was not how I expected this day to go.”

When his father said nothing, he looked up only to see him grinning. “What?” Will asked.

Bootstrap stated, “It isn't obvious?”

Will slouched. “Honestly, I’m exhausted. I don’t have the energy to read into anything. What’s obvious?”

“I have a solution to a massive problem you haven’t yet considered,” Bootstrap replied. “It’s so perfect, there’s no way it wasn’t predestined.”

Will furrowed his brow. “By who? Calypso?”

Bootstrap grinned. “By Calypso.”


	23. A Proposal

Rose stood at the wheel of the _Flying Dutchman,_ a task she relished having at last. It had been years since Anamaria originally taught her how to do so, and now, as the vessel navigated to a new island in the Locker, she was so pleased to have the duty once more. She could very easily use her powers to steer the ship, but there was something nostalgic and comforting about doing it manually.

Once she was on a straight course, she allowed her gaze to wander to James, who was working alongside three others of the crew. She smiled at seeing him finally start to collaborate with others of the crew instead of remaining separate and isolated as he had been for so long. Finally, the _Dutchman_ was starting to feel like home, and it was high time, as it was now going to be their home for a exorbitant and indefinite amount of time.

“Mind if I join you?” Bootstrap’s voice cut in as he joined her at the wheel.

Rose grinned and looked over at him, noticing a light violet bundle in his arms. “What’s that?” she asked.

He unfurled it, revealing a lavender-colored dress. “I found it below in the cargo hold awhile back. We must’ve looted it among other items from a wreck. I thought to throw it overboard, but then I thought that there might be someone aboard who could use it,” he said with a sideways smile. “Especially if there was to be an important occasion coming up in her future, as I thought there might be.”

Rose looked down in embarrassment. “James and I tried to be discreet. How apparent was our affection?”

Bootstrap chuckled, “ _Very_ apparent.”

Rose laughed, then reached out with one hand to gingerly touch the dress. She was truly touched by his generosity, and said softly, “Thank you, Bootstrap. I absolutely will wear this at my wedding.”

He grinned again, but then his gaze drifted to the main deck where Will was walking. Will cast a pointed glance back at his father and gave a slight nod, which Bootstrap also did in response. Will then made his way towards where James was, holding a scabbard in his hands.

“Martin!” Bootstrap said to a man who was fiddling with the rigging nearby where he and Rose stood. “Could you relieve Rose and take the wheel for a moment?”

“Oh no,” Rose protested, unwilling to leave her beloved task. “Must he?”

“It’s no problem, miss!” Martin replied, standing closer towards her.

“Just for a moment, I promise,” Bootstrap assured her.

Reluctantly, she handed the wheel over to Martin and joined Bootstrap at the railing overlooking the rest of the deck. That’s when she noticed Will approaching James. He got his attention and walked him over to the forecastle deck, where they began conversing, though their words were inaudible to Rose.

She furrowed her brow. “What’s happening?” she asked Bootstrap in concern.

"Shh," he said. "Just watch."

Rose obeyed, watching James as Will spoke with him. Will was still speaking even as he handed the scabbard to James, a shiny, elaborately designed handle of a sword poking out the top. Rose’s eyes were fixated to James as he tentatively accepted the sword from their captain and gingerly pulled the sword from its sheath only slightly. He looked pained, and slid it back into its sheath, handing the entire ensemble back to Will while shaking his head.

"He's refusing it," Rose said in confusion.

"Aye, we expected as much."

Rose shook her head. “I don’t follow. What significance is that sword?”

“It’s his.”

“James’s?”

“Aye.”

“But,” Rose protested, “He already _has_ a sword.”

“This one’s a sword from many moons ago,” Bootstrap explained. “The day your brother came to Port Royal, the same day my medallion called to the _Black Pearl,_ Will had been commissioned to make that sword for Norrington. It was the day of his promotion, and Will still credits it as his finest handiwork. James died with his sword raised in defiance towards Jones. Jones took it off him, and used it to kill Will.”

Rose’s eyes widened. “So…Will died by the blade of his own sword.”

“A sad irony,” Bootstrap corroborated. “It’s been sitting here ever since. We thought it might be time to offer it to him again.”

Rose looked back to where her fiancee and her Captain were conversing. Her mouth fell ajar when Bootstrap ended his speech with, “…as he’s due for another promotion.”

Her eyes instantly filled with tears as she spun around to look at him. “You didn’t!”

Bootstrap smiled and gave a shrug. “It’s a solution, isn’t it? James Norrington, Captain of the _Flying Dutchman_? The heir of Calypso and his bride commanding the seas he must traverse to ferry souls into the next world? That was how it was originally intended—Calypso and Jones, together for an eternity. It was his reluctance to do the job and her infidelity that spoiled the whole thing. That won’t happen again. His sense of duty to the cause, your profound love for one another…the seas will bow to you both.”

Rose bounded into him, embracing him tightly. “Thank you so much, Bootstrap. How can I ever thank you enough?”

He released her. “It was Will’s decision as well.” He motioned with his head over towards where Will and James still were standing. “Plus, we don’t know that James will even accept the position.”

“But…when?” Rose asked concernedly. “Neither of us are ready to take on such a task suddenly…”

“With any luck, you’ll have many years to learn,” he replied. “Once Elizabeth dies, Will would have no interest in going on with the duty, nor I without Will. On that day, he’ll release me and have James stab the heart. You’ll place James’s heart in the chest. Does this sound alright by you?”

“Of course it does!” she grinned. “And that’s what Will is proposing to James right now?”

They turned together to watch the conversation continue between the two men; a once proud man of authority and a once inferior man of no rank or status, who in a decade had their roles completely reversed, yet it was the once inferior one who now had the power to redeem the other. Rose watched the man she loved intently. She watched as his expression faded from that of attentive listening, to silent awe as Will’s intentions became clear. James’s rate of breathing increased, and a slight smile formed at the corners of his mouth, though he tried to suppress his joy. Rose knew James had a secret desire to command a crew once more, and she could only imagine the surprise and elation he was feeling at that present moment. She grinned widely when she saw him nod to their Captain, shake his hand, and thank him sincerely.

“Looks like he accepted,” Bootstrap commented.

“Aye,” Rose replied as she watched James take his gift back from Will just as he had so many years ago, a symbol of the life James had lost but now was given back to him in such an unexpected way.

Rose thanked Bootstrap again with another embrace. Bootstrap smiled, then motioned towards James once more. Rose followed his gaze and saw her love now standing alone, gazing at her and smiling broadly.

“Go to him,” Bootstrap said. “There’s much you two have to discuss.”

* * *

James stood in front of the looking glass in Will’s quarters, brow furrowed. He did not expect to be looking at all like he did on this his wedding day, and was generally vexed at his appearance. His blue Admiral’s jacket he was wearing when he died and currently wore now was the one article of clothing he possessed that would have been the same had he wed according to his status, but even now it was dingy, missing many buttons, and had an unmistakeable hole made by a spear from when he was murdered by Bootstrap all those years ago. No matter how hard he tried, he was going to look disheveled and not to his preferred liking, but he nonetheless knew Rose wouldn’t care. She constantly teased him about his Navy wigs from the past, so he supposed what he was left to work with was “good enough.” 

Will was kind to lend him his quarters to get ready in, although James still somewhat seethed out of pure habit at even associating “kindness” with his former enemy. Will had been kind in many ways towards James, however. He had found him in the Locker, he gave him an opportunity to ease his suffering, he had ultimately allowed him to marry Rose, and now had appointed him as his successor. Will _was_ kind, but James quickly vowed to never again let it become apparent that he truly felt that way.

James took a moment to look around at Will’s lofty cabin. One day, all of this would be his. He did not anticipate or relish the promotion, however—his being Captain of the _Dutchman_ would mean that Elizabeth would have died, which was a harrowing thought. But he would take on the job. He knew he was up for the task, he enjoyed having power and status, and he would no longer be alone. He would sail for as long as Rose would have him.

The slam of the cabin door drew him from his thoughts and he concernedly walked around the wall to see who had so hastily arrived. He smiled when he first saw that it was his fiancee who had caused the commotion, especially when he noticed how beautifully she had been made up for their wedding that evening. Her hair was twisted in elaborate braids, and she wore a lavender dress he had never seen before. But his joy plummeted when he saw her rapidly pacing, her hands cupped over her mouth and nose. There was something incredibly worrisome on her mind, enough for her to storm Will’s cabin. James, having built up so much anticipation upon this day, could only imagine the worst: She no longer wished to marry him. This had been a ruse the whole time. It was over.

“Um…” he said, walking cautiously towards her. “Rose?”

She looked up at him in alarm and rushed towards him, her eyes as wide as saucers.

He took her hands in his and tried to keep his voice level as he said with anxiety, “You do know how much bad luck it is for us to be meeting before the wedding, don’t you?”

She grimaced. “It is?”

“Yes.”

She gave a breathy laugh. “I didn’t know. I’ve never done this before.” Her eyes then grew distant, although her mouth remained upturned in a smile.

“…Rose?” he asked again. The silence almost too much to bear.

She shook herself back to reality. “Apologies,” she said again with a laugh. “It’s just…I can’t…” Her voice trailed off as she held his hands tighter.

“Love, why are you here?”

Rose bit her lip, eyes smiling. “You’re the dead man!”

James frowned. “Rude, but…alright.”

“No,” she replied, leading him towards a bench where they sat together. “I mean, it’s all coming true! You remember what I told you of Calypso?”

“Aye…” he cautiously replied, still bewildered.

She put her hands on his shoulders. “She told me a great many things that have all come to pass. That I wouldn’t go aboard the _Pearl_ until the tides turned, which meant not until the missing medallion called to her crew. That I had to find Jack and keep him safe. That I would find the one who I searched for and lost; my father. That I would get more power than any man could have, and that the seas would bow to me. These all came true, but one that I never thought was fulfilled and eventually gave up on altogether was the prophecy about the dead man.”

James smiled again as he listened to her story, finally all putting it together. She continued, “Tia at first told me that ‘he who has much heartbreak’ would be my husband, and that he would be dead. Well, at this point I didn’t even know you existed, and naturally, I assumed that the ‘dead man,’ would be…”

“Ben,” James finished. “The Curse had made him undead.”

Rose looked at him squarely in the eyes, “But then he was killed for good on the island of the Pelegostos, his body ravaged and never to be returned. When I confronted Tia about this, she told me that it wasn’t him. She said that I wouldn’t be in love with you at the time of your death, which utterly confused me, but also that I would be ‘broken,’ when you died.”

James gave a bittersweet smile. “Because you were disappointed that you didn’t get to kill me yourself, that is.”

Rose lowered her head in embarrassment as she laughed, “Just as she said, I wasn’t in love with you then!” She took a moment before she looked back up at him. “So, that’s what I needed to say to you. You’re my destiny after all. You’re the dead man.”

He snorted. “And here I was thinking that you had arrived to deliver bad news.”

“Never! That would be awful.”

He glanced at her from the corner of his eyes, “Just don’t go running off with a blacksmith, alright?”

She leaned in closer to him. “I make no promises,” she whispered.

He pursed his lips. “Very funny. Now will you please leave? I mean that in the best way possible.”

She drew back from him, standing. “You really think my being here is unlucky, don’t you?”

He stood. “Well…best not to risk it?”

She grinned and threw her arms around his neck. “We make our own luck from now on,” she declared, drawing her face close to his. He readied himself for her kiss, but just before their lips were able to touch, she pulled away and rushed to the door, teasing him. She called over her shoulder as she left the room, “Best hop-to, Norrington. Like time and tide, I wait for no man!”

After the door shut with a firm click, he chuckled to himself, “‘More power than any man can possess,’ indeed.” He then turned to give one final, skeptical glance at his appearance in the mirror, and then started for the door when something occurred to him. He backed up and went straight to the starboard window of Will’s quarters. He forced it open on its rusted hinge so that he could look into the frothy ocean waters below.

He leaned his head out the window and said softly, “I never met you, and I’ll never know if this was your plan but…thank you for her. Thank you for this.”Satisfied with his one and only comment to Calypso, he closed the window and then made his way to the main deck to marry his destiny.


	24. They Do Tell Tales

Weeks had passed, and a newfound sense of authority suited James well. He had spent the morning prepping the ship for a voyage to Earth, where he led a team to clean up the wreckage of a reef sinking in Indonesia and ferry the resulting lost souls. Then, he corroborated with Will that his plans for the rest of the day could be executed. Once this was solidified, he walked from the main deck down the corridor to the room he shared with his wife.

He opened the door gingerly, peering inside, finding her sitting cross legged in her hammock, pouring over several large books she had balanced in her lap that she had retrieved from a recent visit to her old storeroom on Shipwreck.

“Rose?” he asked.

She looked up, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Oh good!” she exclaimed, scooping up as many books as her arms could carry and leaping out of the hammock to rush to their bed. This action knocked several over and onto the ground as she did, but she was too impassioned to notice. “Come! I have to show you something!” she cried.

James grinned in amusement, stopping to pick up the strewn volumes she had dropped before sitting by her side, wrapping his arms around her from behind as he peered around at the hasty scribblings she had made on several pieces of parchment.

“I’ve been looking into our situation,” she began, running her finger along one of the pages of these hefty books, “And I’ve been pondering how we can be freed in the future, if at all, despite us having plenty of time to sort it all out.”

“Found anything?” he asked.

She turned to him, smiling widely. “Yes actually!” Picking up one of her books, she flipped through it wildly. “So we can assume that Calypso is not going to undo her bestowal of her powers unto me, aye? Even if she _did_ know how to do it, and having known the woman for years, I am positively certain that she does, why would she?”

“It makes her vulnerable to being bound on Earth again, yes,” James reasoned.

“Precisely. So we need to go over her head. Where do you reckon Calypso got _her_ powers from?”

James furrowed his brow. “Well…I was raised to consider all of these… _things_ to be paganist and false, so I’m not overly familiar with the history of it all, but I would assume… _her_. Seeing as she’s a god herself.”

She looked back at him. “Aye, at face value. But there was a time without Calypso. She is Poseidon’s daughter.”

James raised his eyebrows at this. “So we must confer with Poseidon, then?”

“Not so easy to confer with a god, I’m afraid,” she said. “However, according to several written accounts over the past century really, stories and myths have emerged that his all-powerful trident has been left somewhere on Earth.

James considered this. “So we find the trident, _then_ confer with Poseidon once we use it as leverage?”

“Or,” suggested Rose, “We use it ourselves. Imagine the power it must possess!”

“Any idea as to its whereabouts?”

“Sadly, no,” Rose admitted. “That'll take some work yet. Astronomer Galileo Galilei tried charting it, and I happened upon his notebook. Only since have I discovered that the two are connected, and sadly I gave it away to Barbossa.”

James raised his eyebrows. “Really? What a terrible waste. Any chance of us getting it back?”

“Doubtful,” Rose sighed. “However, hope might not all be lost. He gave it as a gift, but to who I do not know. Here’s hoping that whoever has it now uses it to the utmost.”

“Indeed,” he agreed. Then, with great interest, he asked, “Do you think the trident can reverse your situation?”

“Not only for me,” she said, shaking her head. “James, I think this trident has the power to free _all_ of us, including Will.”

His head was spinning with this new information, as it was a lot to take in. She _did_ have an excellent point though. If this trident could be procured, it might be the solution to all of their problems. He turned to her, looking at her from the corner of his eyes and smirking. “If I didn’t know better,” he stated, “I’d say you were trying to usurp my role as a Captain.”

She smiled, wrapping her arms around his neck. “But you _do_ know better, and realize that I’m trying to usurp your being _dead._ ”

“And what of you?” he asked, leaning forward and touching his forehead with hers. “Would you _really_ want to give up your powers, now that you’ve mastered them?”

“Of course,” she murmured. “I’m powerful with or without them. I just want happiness, whatever that means. Whether it means Captain Norrington or no.”

He gave a small smile. “Well, that’s _all_ I will be for now, so until we locate this supposed trident, that’s all we can do. I _do_ find the notion intriguing, however.” He then pulled back, saying, “But first, it’s time to go.”

Her expression fell, and suddenly she grew very reluctant. “Must we?” she complained.

“We’ve been through this, and yes, we must. I’ve just come from Turner, and he approved of our voyage.”

Rose only groaned and rolled toward the wall in response. James shook her shoulder gently. "We have to go!" he insisted gently.

"Mrrrrrrrrr..."

"Rose!"

"We don't HAVE to..." Rose said, voice muffled in her sheets.

"Yes we do," he said firmly. "We've got until sunset, love. In that time we need to find Jack, which you and I both know will not be an easy task.”

She turned over and looked up at her husband. "We really don't," she protested.

"Rose..."

"I mean it! Your family doesn't have to know, so why does mine?"

"First of all," said he, grabbing her arm and yanking her slowly up into a sitting position, "It would be a bit hard to explain to my parents that I am undead, and secondly, I highly doubt they would approve of you."

She knew deep down that he was right. Now that James was staying with Rose for perhaps an eternity, she had to tell her most beloved member of her family about her new husband, even though she dreaded just the thought of it. Still, she grumbled, "I'm not sure what you're expecting from Jack. You honestly think he'd approve of _you_?"

"I don't care," James retorted. "You still have ties to your family. He deserves to know."

"Can't I just tell him on my own then? Seeing you with me...especially with Jack—"

James leaned over her and said softly, "I'm going. That's that.”

She finally conceded with an exasperated sigh, tying back her hair with a bandana and putting her boots on. Together, they stood, ready to meld into the wall and transport to…wherever Jack was.

“Location?” James asked her.

She shrugged. “The _Pearl?_ Given that he’s freed it from that bottle?”

James rolled his eyes. “If he hasn’t figured out a way to free the _Pearl_ yet, there’s a bigger problem.”

Without another word, they both visualized the _Pearl_ and transformed to that vessel through their own. They both simultaneously arrived on the ever-familiar black deck of the ship, but were immediately taken aback by their surroundings. The ship was completely still and the atmosphere was stiflingly hot and stuffy, and the sky was oddly reflective. They were most definitely on the _Pearl,_ but they were also most definitely on the _Pearl inside_ the bottle.

James and Rose exchanged a perturbed glance. “Well,” James said in monotone, “It would appear that there is indeed a bigger problem.”

Just then, Rose started when Jack the monkey landed on her shoulder with a screech. “Oh my god!” she cried, putting a hand over her pounding heart. She then turned and patted his head, as the poor thing clearly remembered her and was starved for affection. “Well now at least we know what happened to _you,”_ she cooed. “Barbossa will be missing you dearly, no doubt.” He then screeched out again and leapt off her shoulder, skittering across the deck into an unseen nook of the ship.

She then looked up, squinting past the glass enclosure. “Do you see that?” she asked James. “I’m fairly certain that we’re inside _another_ vessel.”

His eyes searched the sky above him, trying to catch a glimpse of anything that would distinguish this other ship and allow for their transformation to it and out of the bottle. Finally, he said with certainty, “I’ve got a visual, grab onto me.”

Rose instantly grabbed hold of his arm, and they backed up into the _Pearl’_ s starboard railing, coming out the other side onto the new ship. Sure enough, James’s visualization was enough to get them there, as they found themselves in the Captain’s quarters of an entirely new ship, where the _Black Pearl_ bottle was sitting motionless on a desk. The couple immediately unsheathed their weapons and stood back to back, uncertain of if they were alone. Once they were sure that no one was within, James and Rose began to search the room. Where was Jack, and why did this foreign ship have the _Pearl?_

Rose walked towards the desk, examining the papers sprawled all over the top of it and underneath the bottle. The words were in a strange language Rose could not make out. “James,” she called, motioning him over to her side. “What’s this?”

“A Scandinavian language of some sort,” he replied, examining it closely. “Norwegian, I’d warrant.”

“I would have said that the ship is docked, but I can feel it moving,” she said in confusion. “Do you reckon we’re alone?”

“Doubtful if we’re in motion,” he replied. “Perhaps they’re undermanned. Shall we go out on deck and ask politely where Jack might be?”

Suddenly, they heard gunfire and shouting out on deck. They exchanged a glance, knowing instantly that not only were they not alone, but the ship was _definitely_ not undermanned.

James tried again. “Shall we go out on deck and exercise force, _then_ ask politely where Jack might be?”

Rose nodded. “Yes, let’s.”

They immediately burst out of the doors and leapt straight into battle. Sure enough, they were met by about a dozen confused Norwegian sailors traversing the Atlantic, who immediately turned their swords and rifles on James and Rose. They tagged-teamed and coordinated their fighting, which was really the only way the two stood a prayer of besting them. Despite their efforts and inability to die, however, Rose knew that this was going to take too long, and she had neither the time nor energy to keep this up. She stopped fighting, raising her arm instead and summoning up a giant swirl of seawater to surround the ship. Then, using that swirl, she used both hands and turned them in towards her quickly to make twelve sharp streams of water to graze each man upside the head. The force of this blast made them all fall together at once, rendering them temporarily unconscious.

James turned around, eyebrows raised. “Really?”

She shrugged. “There was a problem, I saw a solution! Simple as that!”

He crossed his arms. “And now that all of them are completely unconscious, how do you figure we interrogate them, mm?”

Rose hadn’t considered this. “Oh,” she said demurely.

James chuckled to himself, shaking his head. “Stay here and blast them again if they come to before I come back with enough rope to tie them to the mast. Then we’ll wait.”

She obeyed, and after James had gone below, she paused, finally having enough time to look around at her surroundings. It was a bright, cloudless day on the water, and everything was generally quite peaceful. Rose nearly leapt out of her skin, however, when someone leapt seemingly out of the sky and landed nearby her. She immediately poised herself for attack, but who should she find at the other end of her cutlass but her half-brother.

Jack too looked rather surprised to see her. “Aah!” he cried sharply. “I forgot you can show up anywhere now. Quite good timing I must say!” 

Rose rolled her eyes but laughed, placing a hand on her chest in relief. She smiled and embraced him. “And aren’t we all the better for it?” she said. She then pulled back, brow furrowed. “So _that’s_ who they were shooting at. You were up in the sails?”

Jack squinched up his nose. “Eh. More or less.”

“Your ship’s in that room back there, you know.”

“Yes, I’m aware,” he said, lips pursed. “Got separated from me crew back in Hispanola.”

“How?” Rose asked, intrigued.

“Long story,” he replied. “All I’ll say is that it involved the search for a crossbow, an hourglass, three goats and a trumpet, and it _really_ didn’t go at all according to plan. And somehow I ended up here,” he sneered, motioning to the vessel with flailing arms. He then looked down at the twelve slumbering bodies of the crew. “Quite a display, I must say!” he said her with a gold-toothed grin. “Very nice work with your…Calypso…watery…things.”

She smirked. “Thank you. I’ve been practicing.”

“Clearly,” he replied. “What brings you here on such a day as today, though? Running away from Turner so soon?” He then puffed up his chest. “Not nearly as magnificent a leader as I, hmm?”

Rose laughed, but her smile soon faded with the fear of what was about to come. “Actually,” she said somberly, “I don’t come alone.”

Jack nodded. “Ah yes, the other bloke you’re with.” Suddenly, he froze, eyes wide. “It’s not Will, is he? Because if it is, and he’s suddenly standing right behind me, I didn’t mean _any_ of that!”

“No,” Rose reassured him. “But…promise me that you won’t be upset.”

Jack narrowed his eyes. “Why?”

“Just promise!”

“Fine, alright! But what’s going on?”

Just then, James returned with his arms full of rope, entering from behind where Jack stood. Only Rose could see him and his bemused expression upon discovering that Jack was right there.

Jack, however, followed her concerned gaze and spun around to find James there. “For God’s sake, man!” Jack said with utter exasperation. “Why won’t you just leave me alone? Every time I think I’m rid of you, you then somehow pop up out of the blue once again!”

James gave him a moment to rant, then remarked, “Are you finished?”

“No!” Jack cried out like a cranky infant. “However, while you’re just standing around, make yourself useful and tie up these sailors and set them adrift in that longboat over there.”

James narrowed his eyes, challenging him as he sauntered towards Jack confidently. “Sorry, Sparrow,” he said smugly. “I don’t think I will. I’m not your deckhand anymore.” He then promptly shoved the rope into Jack’s hands.

“James,” Rose pleaded. “Come, we’ll do it together.” When James still looked skeptical, she begged, “Please?”

“Yes, James, pretty please?” Jack mocked.

“Jack…” she said warningly.

Despite both men wearing a begrudging expression, they obeyed her orders. While she readied the longboat and loaded it with enough provisions to last them a few days, they tied up and loaded the men inside. Then, altogether, they lowered them down into the water and Rose sent a westerly wave to guide them towards the nearest harbor.

Once this was completed and the three were alone, Rose and James exchanged another uneasy glance.

“Jack,” she began, swallowing her fear. “I’m afraid that we…well, we come here for…other purposes.”

Jack’s eyes darted in alarm between them. “Dear god,” he said, “The last time a vision from the past visited me from the _Dutchman,_ it was to warn me that a terrible beastie was set upon me. Now there are _two_ of you here,” He suddenly jerked his head around, looking all around him, then muttering to them, “…Will hasn’t befriended any giant seahorses lately, has he?”

Rose opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again, struggling to find the right words. Finally, she decided upon, “No. It’s worse, I’m afraid.”

Jack looked horrified. “Lobsters?”

“No!” she cried, rolling her eyes. “Jack, I brought James here because…well… I’m here because you don’t know the relationship between _us._ ”

Jack’s face fell once he started to understand her meaning. “No,” he said quietly. Then, more emphatically, he exclaimed, “No! This is a dream, isn’t it? You’re not really here!”

“Please don’t get upset,” Rose pleaded. “You promised!”

Jack began pinching his arm. “Nope,” he said. “A dream. That’s what this is. A horrible, horrible dream.”

“Jack, stop that!” Rose cried, taking his hands in hers. “We met some time ago, and—“

“Some time ago? _Infancy_ is some time ago! Briefly on Tortuga is _not_ some time ago! _”_

“No, no! We met again after Singapore!”

Jack finally realized. “I _knew_ it! _This_ is the bloke that saved you? You said it was just some officer! Some officer indeed, who apparently is back to being a pirate from the looks of him!”

James said in monotone, “I’m dead, Jack.”

“Well not dead enough! You’re here telling me that you wish to court my younger sister, and not in some grave where dead people belong!”

James and Rose exchanged a guilty glance, to which Jack groaned, “Oh dear Lord, what does _that_ mean?”

“Well,” Rose whimpered. “We’re um…”

“Married!” James finally cried triumphantly, pulling his wife into a sudden kiss.

Rose quickly pulled away, embarrassed and dared look at Jack’s expression, which has been since described to me by Rose as “a mixture of horror and immense pain.”

“This is a joke, isn’t it?” Jack said finally, coming to. “Ha ha!” he laughed. “You two certainly got me! Very funny!”

James grabbed Rose’s waist and pulled her up against him. “No joke, brother-in-law,” he grinned boastfully, holding up his left hand. “We even have rings to prove it.”

Jack began to hyperventilate, his words coming out in staggered breaths. “You…married…you…him…you two… _I’ll kill you!”_

“Whoa now!” Rose cried, stepping in between Jack and James, pushing against Jack as he tried to wildly attack her undead husband.

“You did it just to get the better of me, didn’t you?” Jack yelled.

“Believe it or not, Sparrow, I can feel affection, and it just so happens that your sister holds mine!”

“And you felt this starting when? Singapore? After or _during_ Elizabeth?”

James fumed, “You really just can’t stand it that I’m taking one of your things, can you? Well how does it feel, after all the things you’ve taken from _me_?”

“I didn’t take yer sister, mate! That’s too far!”

“Well I didn’t take your _life,_ although I really should have!”

“I let you on my ship, you bloody moron!”

“Who set Rose free?” James asked rhetorically. “Who set Elizabeth free? Without them you would have been back in the Locker where you probably belong!”

“James!” Rose exclaimed. “Stop it!”

“I saw you though!” Jack added. “Back on Tortuga. You bloody bought Rose in that bride auction. You _hated_ her!”

“And she hated me for years! People change,” said James.

“Well _I_ certainly don’t!”

“Jack, please!” Rose said sharply.

“No!” he protested. “This is too much! You’ve married without my blessing knowing full well that I wouldn’t give it to you!”

James rolled his eyes. “We needed your _father’s_ blessing, although we all know how highly you think of yourself.”

Jack glared at James. “And did you get that blessing from good ol’ Dad, Norrie?”

James grinned. “We did, actually.”

Jack only laughed. “Of _course!_ Teague probably LOVED you! The two of you are thick as thieves!”

“Jack,” Rose pled again. “Please can we just stop?”

“Yes we can, Rose,” he replied. “All of this can stop.” Backing away, he looked between his sister and her husband as he said, “We’re done here for now! My regards to the happy couple, and good day to you both!” He spun on his hill and disappeared into the Captain’s quarters.

“Jack!” called Rose in exasperation. “Please don’t do this!”

“Aye,” James called as well. “I always thought you were, ‘rooting for me all along!’ What on earth changed?”

Jack audibly winced from inside the room upon hearing James’s witty remark before slamming the door behind him.

”James!" Rose cried, slapping him in the arm. “Enough! Was _this_ the reason why you wanted to come here today? To antagonize him?”

James considered this for a moment, then said, “I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t a _large_ part of why I wanted to come here, yes.”

She gave him a warning look. "Stay here," she said gently. James began to protest, but she silenced him with a glare. "Please! You really aren't helping things."

James pursed his lips. "You're certain?"

Rose rolled her eyes. "Yes, I am quite capable of walking to and from a room!”

"I honestly thought he would react better," James muttered.

"Well, you've got my father's approval, and we’re clearly never getting yours. That's about as much as you can expect, unfortunately," Rose sighed. "Now let me go! I'll be along soon!"

Leaving James behind, Rose went to go find her brother. She found him sitting in the Captain’s chair, staring angrily at her.

"What?" Rose said firmly.

"You know perfectly well what," Jack spat. "You are dead to me."

Rose came around the desk and sat on the arm of his chair. "Good thing I'm immortal, then," she joked.

Jack only stared at her. "Him? You picked him?! What could he possibly offer you?"

Rose smiled, thinking of her husband. "Love. Love in spite of loss."

"And you think he...loves you?" Jack said, gagging at the thought of his old enemy in love with his younger sister.

"I _know_ ," she replied with certainty.

Jack huffed, "Any man! You could have any man on that ship and you pick the one who hates me!” He sighed, and after a moment, finally gave up his battle. "And you're...happy?"

"I promise," she grinned. "And you? Are you happy?"

He pondered this, then settled on, "I got everything I need, love."

“Everything save the _Pearl_..."

Jack leaned down looked down at the bottle on the table which still housed his beloved ship. "I'll figure it out someday," he mused.

They peered into it together.

“Why is it everyone I know seems to have achieved eternal life before I did?” Jack suddenly complained. “Turners big and small, you, even bloody Norrington!

Rose chuckled. “There are other ways and you know that.”

“It continues to evade me,” he said skeptically.

Suddenly, an idea occurred to Rose. “Here’s one for you,” she said. “…The trident of Poseidon.”

Jack raised his eyebrows in interest and leaned closer towards her in interest.

“I’m hunting for it to reverse the Jones curse altogether,” she said. “It’s bound to have unspeakable powers, one of which _might_ include eternal life.”

Jack’s eyes lit up. “…I like the sound of that…”

“Start your search then,” she encouraged.

“Have you told Will yet?” Jack asked.

“I’ve just barely figured it all out myself! I want to sort out a few more details before I bother him with it, but it’s sure to be of interest to him. This may take awhile, however. Years, in fact. If you find it, you simply _must_ share it with us.”

Jack gave a sly, sideways grin. “How about first to the finish, eh?”

Rose gasped in faux outrage. “Is that how you treat your little sister?”

Jack smirked. “Pirate.”

“So be it, Sparrow,” she replied, standing and extending her hand out to him. “First to the finish.”

He too stood and shook her hand. “Then I shall see you there, Mrs. Norrington.”

“Oh hush,” she silenced him. “You know as well as anyone that I’ll forever be a Hexfury. The _only_ Hexfury.”

Together, they walked back out to the main deck where James was waiting for them.

“I took the liberty of setting you out on a Southward course,” James said arrogantly to Jack. “You’re welcome.”

“Sorry, I wasn’t listening,” Jack spat in response. “My head was reeling at seeing you without your trademark wig.”

James looked over at Rose, lips pursed. She just laughed and shook her head, then crossed to his side.

Jack regarding the couple, still clearly uncomfortable with the union. He finally conceded, however, seeing how happy Rose was, and said to James, “I trust my sister to eviscerate you with her magic water arms or whatever if you are stupid enough to hurt her, but if not, I will personally see to it that you are a dead man.”

“Little late for that,” James fired back.

“ _Deader,_ ” warned Jack.

“We’ll be fine, Jack,” Rose assured him. “And what of you? You’re alright to sail to…wherever you’re going on your own?”

He shrugged. “Eh. Probably. I always land on my feet, love.”

“Keep it that way,” she said with a smile. She then nodded to James, indicating that it was time for them to depart back for the _Flying Dutchman_ and the Locker. James went first, transforming back into the deck.

Rose, however, stayed behind for a moment. Looking back over her shoulder, she reached around her belt and produced the mother of pearl pendant and held it up. Jack did the same with his nearly identical pendant, a token their father had given to their mothers all those years ago. The pendant that had connected them since the beginning. The pendant that started it all.

Rose knew that she would see Jack again, especially if the trident was in his future. But leaving him would always pain her, remnants from past dreams she had had as a child of sailing the seas with him forever. She _would_ sail the seas forever, just not with him. Her dreams had changed, as had his. Life moved on, and death moved right along with it. Their paths were intwined, but hers and James’s had been joined.

And for an eternity, if need be, would they stay that way.


	25. Epilogue

Rose hadn't had a nightmare in ages. She was no longer haunted by darkness at night in any way. Her sleep was dreamless and peaceful.

She woke up from one of these restful nights, already hearing the sound of waves lapping the sides of the ship and the creaking floorboards above her balancing the weight of the crisscrossing paths of the men.

She stretched across her bed and adjusted herself cautiously. James was next to her, already awake. He turned to her when he noticed that she too had awakened.

"Been up long?" she asked.

Her heart stirred at the loving way in which he looked at her. "Sadly, yes," he mumbled.

She inched closer to his side and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders as they together stared at the ceiling as if they could see straight through it.

"Morning or night?" she asked suddenly, which had become their code for, _Have we awakened on Earth or in the Locker?_

Cannon fire answered her, and they both jumped. From the lack of vibrations on _The Dutchmen,_ they both instantly knew that they had not fired—someone was shooting at them _._ They exchanged a knowing look, and James leapt up and hastily put on his shirt.

"I'm going to take a stab at it and guess night," James's muffled voice said underneath the fabric. Rose sat up and grabbed his jacket, holding it out to him so that he could easily put it on.

A knock on their door delivered the message: “Master Norrington! You're needed on deck!"

Rose guided James's left arm through the sleeve. "Martin!" She cried to the man outside. "Who's firing at us?"

"A shipwreck off the Ivory Coast, madam. There seem to be a few survivors."

James turned to her. "We must have spooked them." He then called to the door himself. "I'll be right up!"

As he made a few last adjustments, Rose moved to the edge of the bed and reached for her boots.

"I'm not sure I want you out there," James said sternly.

"I can manage!" she protested. "I can turn the tides in our favor. Especially if it's as rough out there as I know it is."

He put his hands on her shoulders. "I'm asking you to stay here for my sake. I need you safe. _You_ need you safe."

She nodded reluctantly. He was right. With his military background at the helm, no one could match their force. Her aid would make the fight _far_ easier, but was not entirely necessary.

He brushed a curl out of her eyes before he turned to go. Her eyes followed him and she watched him open the door and stop sharply.

He looked back at her. "I've been thinking. About what you asked me last night.”

“And?” she said, grinning. “Let me guess…Lawrence?”

James looked taken aback. “Absolutely not! I’m not _that_ cruel!”

“Jack, then?”

James pursed his lips. “No.”

She gave a faux pout. "Why not? I thought you liked Jack!"

"I _tolerate_ Jack. Never have I _liked_ it."

She smiled wryly. "This _is_ half of my decision, you know..."

He shifted impatiently, but then grew pensive. “No, on the contrary…what about Ben?”

Rose’s grin got even wider, and she felt her eyes well up with tears. She knew he could see how happy his words had made her. “Not James?”

He gave a half smile and a laugh. “No. One of those poor wretches is already one too many.”

“I respectfully must disagree,” she murmured.

After a moment shared between the two of them, James straightened his posture and replied in his typical haughty way, "All I'm saying is, my choice is Ben."

She warmly smiled. "I like that."

He nodded, giving her another gaze that lingered.

Another cannon blast.

"Back in a moment," he said, closing the door behind him.

Alone, she took the time to examine her surroundings. She was sitting in a rich, colorful room ornamented in fineries from other people's stories. She was sitting in a bed still warm from the love of her life. She once was a motherless gypsy with a crippling disability, exiled from her country and separated from her clan. By fate, she crossed paths with her half-brother, and thereby found her father, a pirate in every sense of the word. She grew up on the tail end of society, living amongst men who were scalawags and brutes. She found a childhood love and discovered a life on the seas, meeting a kind father figure in Bootstrap and a constant challenge to her ego in Barbossa. Jack became her confidante, her effervescent hope for adventure and vibrancy in a life where half her world was shrouded in darkness. She found a life she never thought she would live with the sea goddess Calypso, disguised as the ever-entrancing Tia Dalma. Her urge to better herself and never give up was fueled by Angelica, a constant source of competition. Her childhood love returned into her life as little more than a stranger, but led her to the salvation she sought in her brother. Ben left her hopeless, but stronger. Healing Barbossa taught her forgiveness and patience. Jack's demise was the ultimate test of her strength, which she would have failed were it not for James. His sacrifice blew wind into her sails, and taught her to move on, dream again, and find her father. Calypso entrusted her with her powers, which forever marked her as her heir. Suddenly, responsibility to Will, Elizabeth, Henry, and an entire town fell to her shoulders, as she found herself the soothsayer herself. Her guidance was coveted, revered, _necessary_. Life outwore its usefulness though, and she was finally freed. She was where she belonged—a gypsy of the seas, with the ocean waters in her control, alongside the company she kept, hand in hand with the man she truly belonged with whom she would endure and carry out the duties of Jones's curse together. Her life had always been manipulated by the needs and wants of others, and for the first time in her life, she had all the power in the world.

She grabbed her coat and flung it over her shoulders, tying her hair back with a bandana. Generally, when James concerned himself with giving her orders, Rose learned that it was always better to do the opposite of what he said. He told her to stay out of danger, but she was deciding to carve her own path this time. There were plenty of ways that she could avoid danger while still helping.

She stood slowly, anticipating the strain on her lower back before she actually felt it. She placed a hand over her stomach, feeling the gentle rising and falling of the tiny being inside of her.

Being an immortal among the undead was still something she needed to get used to. It was still so full of mysteries she had yet to uncover. But she felt a sense of comfort in knowing that great beauty and joy could still be born out of death. That had been represented throughout her entire _life._

James wanted the name Ben. She agreed that it was a good name from a good source, but she found herself rather thinking that she was carrying a daughter.

And if she was, she would name her...Anna.

 

* * *

 

Thus marks the end of my written ledger about the legend of Rose Hexfury, heir to the sea goddess Calypso and commander of the seas, daughter of Captain Edward Teague, half-sister to the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow, wife to the potential future Captain James Norrington, and mother to me. This is where her story ends, and where my story begins.

 

— Anna Jaqueline Norrington

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep! That's it! Just as Anna Norrington says, "this is where her story begins." We're now going to get a firsthand account of her adventures as the child of Rose Hexfury and James Norrington, which covers the events of Dead Men Tell No Tales and beyond. 
> 
> Join me next on "The Anna Diaries!" 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading again, and feel free to leave feedback!


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